


Of Steel and Stardust

by Precursor



Series: First Contact [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4, Titanfall
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fallout, Alternative Universe - Titanfall, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gen, LastDanse, Metro 2033 References, Other, Platonic Danse & Sole Survivor, Platonic Jack & BT, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Robot/Human Relationships, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2018-10-05 05:07:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 35
Words: 245,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10298204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Precursor/pseuds/Precursor
Summary: She didn’t have a flawless service record like her father, Captain Tai Lastimosa.  She didn’t have a tragic upbringing like her adopted brother, Jack Cooper.  All she had was a new mission to uphold, and getting involved with the Brotherhood of Steel was far from a set parameter.  But if Liera and her Titan were prepared for anything, it was war…And war never changes.[Fandom-blind friendly]This fic ships Danse with the main character.Beta'd by MjrGenMatt as of Chapter 22





	1. Ad Victoriam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"The Scribes copy the plans for the weapons, and the Knights make them. The Paladins protect the Brotherhood from harm."_  
>  -Paladin Rhombus

 

* * *

* * *

 

               he Cambridge Police Station was stripped clean, save for a few bits of ammunition scattered on the floor.  Probably duds.  
                They felt light in the Paladin’s hands.   
                There was a clipboard, battered and forgotten by time as the world aged and died around it.  Some names were still legible on the pages it held, not that they really meant anything anymore.  It was now just a useless ledger behind a screen where an officer once sat, enacting their civil justice by checking in criminals.  
                Danse always wondered how this kind of junk survived the blast.  If the number of random knick-knacks he found equaled to anything useful, the Brotherhood of Steel would have accomplished their mission years prior: to rebuild civilization.  
“We need something to boost the signal.  There’s some kind of interference, I can’t place it.” A woman’s fingers danced through a mess of circuitry from a freshly gutted radio.  
                It sat on the counter, it’s copper innards sprawling down to her knees like metal vines.  
“Knight Rhys?” Danse turned to the man.  
“Yes, sir?” He saluted.  
“When you secured the perimeter, did you notice anything unusual that would be blocking the radio signals?”  
“No, sir. Just a few straggling Ghouls.” Rhys responded.  
“Scribe Haylen, have you checked the roof?” Danse asked the woman.  
“I have, sir.  Just a nest of fried tech.” She answered, “It’s not that. It’s not radiation.  It’s not any other type of signal wave, either.  I’m not sure what it is, but it’s not strong.  Just…too strong for what little we have to work with right now.” She sighed.  
                It’d been two days since Knight-Sergeant Dawes was killed at an ambush at the Airport.  He’d been the fourth one to die since Recon Squad Gladius set out on a mission to investigate the Commonwealth under Paladin Danse’s command several months ago.  The three of them at the police station were all that remained.  Them, and the wilting planks that threatened to break every time Danse stomped around in his Power Armor.  
 “I’d like to walk the perimeter one more time before we call it a night, if I may.” Rhys offered, “Might have missed something.”  
                Danse liked that about Rhys.  Never one to leave a mission stagnant.  
“Of course, Knight.  Stay alert out there.” Danse ordered.  
“Yes, sir.” Rhys took his laser rifle from the corner of the room, right where he’d left it.  
“Here, take these.” Haylen’s hand dug in her pocket, retrieving two stimpaks.  He took them from her graciously.  
“Thank you, Sister.” Rhys smiled.  
“Ad Victoriam, Brother.” Haylen responded.  
_“Ad Victoriam,”_  Danse huffed, _“We’re going to need a lot more than a mantra to get ourselves out of this mess.”_  
                A spark flew from the radio.  
“Ow! Damn, that hurt.  Overloaded the circuit board.” Haylen shook her hand in the air, her singed fingerless glove sending a small plume of smoke into her nostrils.  She started to cough, laughing in between.  
_“Alive, anyhow.”_  
“Careful, Haylen.” Danse’s eyes softened, “Electrocuting yourself? You’re better than that, soldier.”  
“Don’t give her too much credit, sir.” Rhys had dismantled the makeshift barricade in front of the station’s doors, “Maybe you should’ve kept these stimpaks, Haylen.”  
                A feint voice came from the galvanized contraption in front of Haylen.  
                The three of them listened intently.  
                There were jumbled words at first- barely audible.  
_“Dropping now-“_ The signal was cut loose.  
  “Damn it!” Haylen swore, “So close.” She began to tinker with the device again.  
                The building rattled, dust being shook from the asbestos tiles floating above them.  An echo of a “thump” snuck its way through the two broken windows in the lobby.  
“What was that?” Rhys asked.  
“Sounded big.” Danse picked up one of the slabs of wood they hauled from a warehouse in one hand, and a container of nails in the other, “On second thought, Rhys, resecure that door.  Let’s get these windows patched up and hunker down.” His metal hand glistened from the light provided by the few dangling light bulbs Haylen made operational, “Last thing we need is another surprise.  I’ll investigate in the morning.”  
“Yes sir, Paladin Danse.” Rhys answered.  
“Got it!  I think.” Haylen clapped her hands together, ridding them of grime, “Whatever fell cleared up the wave barrier.  I’ve got the frequency, we just need a little more juice.” She grinned.  
“I’m sure I’ll find something at ArcJet Systems.” Danse reassured.  
                Haylen and Rhys froze, looking at him.  
“Is there a problem?” Danse asked.  
                The two soldiers looked at each other.  
                Rhys was the first one to talk, “Permission to speak freely, sir?”  
“Proceed, Knight.” Danse already knew what was coming, but would give his Brother the courtesy of voicing himself, regardless.  
“Scribe Haylen and I want to come with you.  Going by yourself could be fatal, sir.” Rhys fidgeted, uncomfortable to question his superior.  
                Danse sighed, “We’ve lost too many good soldiers.  Mobilizing one unit minimizes the probability of more unnecessary loss of life.”  He held the wooden piece so that it covered the window, pressing the nails through the walls with the strength of his Armor, “I’ve run the calculations and have gone over strategic points of entry. We’ve cased the building numerous times.  I’ll be fine.”  
                 He wished he believed his own words.  
“But-“ Haylen began.  
“My decision is final.  You’ll both stay here tomorrow.  Those are orders.” Danse interrupted.  
“Yes, sir.” She sighed.  
                 Danse never liked getting stern with the inferiors under his command, but if it meant keeping them safe, it was a discomfort he’d muster through.  
“I’ll, uh…get some rations together.” Haylen rubbed the back of her neck, looking at their provisions crate resting in front of the armory doors.  
“Good idea.” Danse agreed, pushing the last nail through their new window cover.  
                 He left the lobby, taking a moment to himself in the deputy’s office he’d claimed.  A busted computer monitor on a desk, a shredded leather seat, and a Brotherhood of Steel sleeping pack was all the furniture that inhabited it.  He held his arms out, ejecting from his Power Armor, leaving the light of his visor on until he lit a candle on the desk with a pack of pre-war matches.  The flames illuminated his orange jumpsuit, allowing him to see his reflection in the shattered pieces of the terminal screen.  
                Danse sat in the chair, not entirely sure if it would hold his weight.  He took a deep breath, trying to relinquish some of his stress unto the small room.  
_“It’s no Prydwen, but it’s got us this far.”_ He observed the broken ceiling fan above him, trying to picture what the office looked like before the bombs fell.  
                He entertained the idea of being the deputy of the station, dealing with minor day-to-day petty crimes and getting excited over real investigative work, like homicides.  
_“I wonder if the last person who sat in this chair condemned four great soldiers to their deaths, too.”_  
                 Guilt shattered his peaceful illusion.  
                Danse’s fingers wound themselves up to the strap underneath his chin, tossing the hood he wore under his helmet to the floor. It landed on a broken picture frame, the glass bits moving under the fabric as they collided.  
                He leaned over to retrieve the abused garment and placed it on the desk, _“That’s what I get for being careless.  Glass in my hood.”_    
                There was a picture behind the shards- of a uniformed man, what looked to be his wife, and a small girl that was probably his daughter.  Danse delicately picked up the printed parcel, wanting to lose himself in another daydream.  His memories of his parents were hazy, and he hadn’t really known any kind of love outside the Brotherhood.  The love between soldiers who put themselves on the line for the cause, who’d die at the command of-

_“It’s not your fault.”_ Danse repeated Haylen’s words in his head to comfort himself.   
                He folded the picture in half, stowing it away in a pocket close to his chest.  
_“Maybe not all the knick-knacks around here are useless.”_ He thought, hoisting himself out of the chair at the call of Haylen’s voice that got lost somewhere between the, “I got most of my squadron murdered,” and the “What’s it like to have a family?” monologues in his head.  
                Danse sat next to Haylen, who passed out equally divided and strategically rationed portions of pre-preserved food to him and Rhys.  
                He had a family, Danse reminded himself as he tore into some kind of vegetable paste that tasted of rot and cheap military budgets.  
                He allowed himself to enjoy the company of only family he ever needed.  
                The only family he ever knew.  
                The Brotherhood of Steel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Notes:**
> 
> 1\. The chapters get longer as the story progresses.
> 
> 2\. My style in writing has changed over the last year. Newer chapters will be significantly more refined than the older ones.


	2. Mission Brief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"They'll call us terrorists or worse, but we can't win playing by their rules."_  
>  -James MacAllan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter, Liera asks herself why her father listed his Titan under her name.  
> (BT does not get paired with her.)

* * *

* * *

 


	3. Please Stand By

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Of all the things I’ve seen on the battlefield of the Frontier, the Pilot is the true dominate force._  
>  _Fast and agile._  
>  _Graceful, yet devastating._  
>  _Perceptive, resourceful…and relentless._  
>  _A Pilot sees the world differently. Sheer walls become flanking routes._  
>  _Pilots fight differently- experienced in deception and maneuver._  
>  _Even overwhelming odds shift in their favor._  
>  _But what truly separates the Pilot from all the Grunts and machines of the battlefield, is the bond between the Pilot and a Titan.”_  
>  -[Jack Cooper reflecting on Pilots and Titans Pt.1](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VqeMjHmL9eg)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _"Jack Cooper's Reflection Video,"_ linked in summary text.  
>  _"Militia Propoganda Video,"_ linked in chapter text.  
>  They're both short.  
>   
>  ** _Archive Quick Reference Guide_**  
>   
>  **IMC:** Interstellar Manufacturing Corporation. Invaders that originated from Earth. Fights the Militia for control over resource-abundant lands.  
>  **The Frontier:** Sparsely settled planets/settlements. Less civilized than other areas of human space.  
>  **Frontier Militia:** Now-organized group of bandits, mercenaries, and pirates. "Citizen soldiers," that defend their homesteads.  
>  **Top Gun:** Those who pass the third part of Pilot Cert, a simulation where the Pilot and Titan must engage in combat against three enemy IMC Titans. Programmed to be impossible to emphasize the value of unity within the Militia.  
>  **M-COR:** The Marauder Corps. are a unit of the Frontier Militia, comprised of many Pilots and Riflemen. They were instrumental in recruiting former IMC officers James MacAllan and Robert "Barker" Taube to the Militia cause, leading to the disastrous IMC defeat at the Battle of Demeter. M-COR now has its own sub-groups such as the 41st Militia Rifle Battalion. M-COR was restructured in the Militia command as one of several sub-units (Corps) answering to the Special Recon Squadron.  
>  **Special Recon Squadron:** The SRS represents an elite branch that exists parallel to the other major branches of the new Militia structure. M-COR's Riflemen report directly to SRS Pilots. These infantry units support SRS operation with fire support and manpower. SRS Pilot's elevated responsibilities also confer the use of the Vanguard-class Titan. The SRS logo depicts a blue Prowler, a natural predator known to stalk and ambush its prey.  
> 

* * *

 

* * *

  

                 op.

          Liera's bubble gum exploded.  She slurped it back into her gnashing teeth as she tapped a holographic pause button.  
"What do you think?" She asked her Titan, EV-5649.  
"I found it inspirational."  
          Liera was snuggled into EV’s cockpit with her legs crisscrossed, sitting on her boots, "Still can't believe they made a [video about dad and BT](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EXwdWuSuiYA). I knew we were starting this whole Militia propaganda campaign, but…Come. On. Dramatic, much?" Her jumpsuit rode up in the middle of her legs. She pinched the fabric, pulling it down some,  _"I knew shoulda' worn something more comfortable…"  
_ "Defining 'DRAMATIC:' suitable to or characteristic of the drama," The words scrolled behind Liera's visor display as EV spoke, "'DRAMA:' a state, situation, or series of events involving interesting or intense conflict of forces. The Captain's feats are indeed, 'dramatic.' The video therefore has a reason to be 'dramatic.'"

"You wanna' say that word again? Didn't hear it the first three times." She rolled her eyes, her tone sarcastic.  
"Dramatic."  
" _Anyway,_ I think it's cute they used Cooper to play 'younger Lastimosa.'" Liera used the interactive function in her tech-glove to swipe through the Militia newsfeed, all words and pictures that danced upon the screen of her Pilot helmet, "I wonder if he'll ever pass his Pilot Certification, make stories of his own..."  
"If we assume he does not suffer another bout of post-traumatic stress syndrome, the odds of Rifleman Jack Cooper passing the Pilot Gauntlet are…CALCULATING PROBABILITY…89.7%."  
_"PTSD…right. Maybe they should switch my 'Top Gun' patch for a 'Most Insensitive Sister of the Year' ribbon."  
          _ Cooper suffered on the battlefield alongside the Pilots and the Titans that fought for the Frontier. He was orphaned by an IMC attack on his colony, only to be adopted by Liera's parents afterwards. Jack was intelligent and highly skilled, but he often froze when Titans were deployed near him.  
          He joined the Militia in hopes of overcoming the triggers and wanting to earn Pilot rank. Small leaps of progress have been made since then.  
          The delivery ship hit a spot of turbulence, causing Liera to bite her tongue.  
"Ow-fuck," She gripped her nipped limb to numb the pain and tasted the foulness of oil on her glove instead, "Pfffft-" She spat to get the taste from her mouth, accidently sending her gum flying onto the red folder that held their orders, "Damn it!"  
          She leaned down to pick up the "M-COR" stamped envelope, peeling the pink mound off and sticking it in a waste bag hanging from her chair.  
          Seeing the folder reminded her of something.  
"Oh, hey, did you see all the typos in this thing?" Liera opened the dossier, flicking through what little intelligence the SRS had on their destination, "Model number?  _Wrong._  Chassis and class?  _Wrong_. I mean, seriously…”  
          On the cover letter, Liera's Titan was labelled "BT-7274" with an "Atlas" chassis of the "Tone" class.  
_"How did 'Atlas' and 'Tone' make it on here in the first place? Neither of our buddies come close to that kind of garbage."  
_           BT was her dad's Titan, a Militia Vanguard, just like EV.  The Militia Vanguard was the first Titan that the Frontier Militia crafted- the only type they hadn't poached from the battlefields of defeated IMC.  
"I did find it peculiar that Captain Lastimosa mistook the 'Authorized Receipts.'" EV agreed.  
"I'll ask him when he Coms in," Liera began to skim over the document for the tenth time, grinning at everything outlined in black.  
"When I saw the brackets, I got excited." She read the words,  **"[EXTREMELY HAZARDOUS.]** "  
"Do brackets excite you?"  
"No…What's exciting about it is that if there's ever a redacted version that floats around, everything in them will be covered in black ink. Totally shifts the mood of the whole thing. Like, look here," She pointed to the fifth parameter, "Do not target,  **[ _BLACK-LINE-OF-ULTIMATE-SECRECY_ ,] **civilians, protected sites, yada, yada. So, let's say we end up having to plow over a hospital because there's people shooting at us from up top. The Officer with the redacted version'll be like, 'You were told not to do this, blargh.' And we'll be fine, because it originally said  **[EXCEPT IN SELF-DEFENSE.]** See what I mean?  
          Her lackluster delivery forced EV to compute her words.  
"The probability of an enemy force stationing themselves on top of a hospital is 26%.”  
          Liera sighed, "You're impossible."  
          The spinning symbol of the Milita's icon and the "Incoming Transmission," alert made her jump. She smoothed her jacket out and shut the folder in her lap before answering, "This is call sign 'Maverick' and 'Warden.' What's your input, Command?"  
          Every month, the SRS cycled a code to be exchanged before speaking through the telecoms.  
"Foxtrot, Alfa, Lima, Lima, Oscar, Uniform, Tango." A male voice responded before his face popped up.  
"Oh," Liera relaxed out of her professional stiffness, "Hey, dad."  
"Good evening, Captain Lastimosa." EV greeted.  
"'Hey, trouble-making child of mine. Hello, EV-5649." Tai smiled.  
"Call signs, dad. Geesh. That video go to your head?"  
"First of all, I don't remember my call sign being 'dad.' Second, pardon me if I don't want to call my daughter 'Maverick.'"  
          Only being allowed to "report" to her father once a week was going to be difficult. However, less communication to HQ meant less chance the IMC would find out what they're up to, and after all, orders were orders.  
"So," He started, "You watched the video, then. Well?"  
"I…" Liera reeled in her snarkyness, "I think it's great. Really outdid yourselves with this one."  
"It's shit. I knew it." He leaned back in his chair, "Maybe I should have them pull it."  
"No, really, it's good. I'm sure it'll motivate a lot of farmers to pick up a gun. We can only hope they don't accidentally shoot themselves with it.”  
          Liera and her father laughed together.  
"You're a brat, you know that?”  
"I'm your brat, though." She stuck her tongue out.  
          Her lips remained creased in a smile, trying not to think about her mission, "Is Cooper ready for his Gauntlet tomorrow?"  
          Tai's brows pinched, "Well, we rescheduled it to next week." He rolled his arm, gripping his shoulder with his hand, "Your brother was a bit of a mess after you left."  
          Another icon interrupted their conversation.  
"There's Commander Briggs." Liera sighed, "Guess we were having too much fun."  
"Shh!"  
          Sarah’s harsh face slid in line next to his. She had spiked hair, dark makeup, and a red bandanna to frame it all. Her mic dangled above a black choker and a strung bullet casing that hung as a necklace.  
          Per barrack gossip, it was the same bullet casing she'd dug out of her mother's skull.  
          Sarah Briggs was kind of a badass in that way. It was a believable story.  
          Still, the blue color of the holograph made her look like an alien, and far less intimidating.  
          For now.  
"This is call sign 'Maverick' and 'Warden.' What's your input, Command?" Liera repeated.  
"Foxtrot, Alfa, Lima, Lima, Oscar, Uniform, Tango. You're sticking to protocol. Good." Sarah scratched her chin, "It's almost time, are you ready for this?"  
_"No."_  
"Yes, Commander." She lied, "I've read the dossier and reviewed what I could. However, I have a few questions, permitted I'm allowed to ask them?"  
"Proceed, Pilot." Sarah mumbled, "Always questions, with this one…"  
"All this talk of 'enemy capture,' 'radiated lands,' 'deadly force.' What exactly are we going up against, here?"  
"We know the radiation is thick. Combine that with how far away Earth is, we can't get any kind of visual unless we go in close. Getting the radio signals established was hard enough. The rest is your job to figure out, 'Combat Intel Specialist.'"

 _"One Pilot, one Titan, dead-dropped in the middle of 'hopefully' night…You're Recon, Liera, remember?"  
_ "…Understood."  
"Outstanding." Sarah continued, "Anything else?"  
"'Warden' was misidentified on the cover letter. She is addressed as my father's Titan and her chassis and class are wrong."  
          Tai and Sarah seemed a lot less surprised than they should've been.  
"Apologies, Commander. I'm getting old, and writing my daughter's orders was a bit taxing."  
"I was there, too, Captain. Sorry about that, team. We'll make the adjustments on our end. Any further questions?" Sarah was all business.  
"No, that's it."  
"Great." Sarah pulled up a countdown on Liera’s display, "I'm getting some radio interference from below. I'll work on it while you guys wrap things up. Be ready on my mark." Her feed went dark, and the timer started.  
          5 minutes until deployment.  
"You should've got your hair cut before you left. No one is going to talk to you looking like that." Tai joked.  
          He always made grim situations better with humor…and gave her shit for only shaving half her head.  
"This uniform makes me look like a guy already. I could at least keep some of my hair." Liera scoffed.  
"Is that why you won't cut it short like all the other Militia troops around here?" He shifted in his seat, "The Commander didn't go bald. You wouldn't have to, either. And if you did, I've seen some cool tattoo designs, if you wanted to get clever with it."  
          It was commonplace for men and women alike to maintain short hair when getting promoted into the field. Blind spots were bad, and helmets were hot. Getting rid of hair was viewed as common sense.  
"I don't want to do this." The words escaped her before she could wrangle them in, unable to be distracted by his banter.  
          Tai’s eyes started to swell.  
          They'd done that when she hugged him goodbye, too.  
          It sucked.  
"I know you don't. Remember, it was me who told you not to join the Militia." Her dad gave her a sad smile.  
"'Civilian-life' might have worked for mom, but they wouldn't have known what to do with me." Liera half-grinned.  
"Got that right. Ask too many damn questions. That's how your ass ended up with the SRS in the first place."  
"Yeah…Wish I kept my mouth shut right about now."  
          4 minutes.  
"Hey, don't say that." He suddenly became a lot more like her Captain and less like her father, "Questions are good. Questions keep soldiers alive. Don't ever stop questioning."  
"I know.  I'm just…I dunno. What are you and Cooper going to do with me only being able to annoy you guys once a week?"  
"Get some fucking sleep." He tried to laugh, but a hoarse croak came out instead, "Yeah, right. I don't think we'll be sleeping much over the next couple months."  
          Liera's eyes drifted to her hand, twitching in anticipation. No, she really didn't want to do this. She wanted to go back to the  _MCS James MacAllan_  and plop on her bed. She wanted to keep fighting with the 9th Militia Fleet; with her dad and BT, alongside her brother.

"Heart rate accelerating. Opioid activity increase detected." EV broke her thoughts, "Pilot, these brain chemicals are caused by distress and can have a negative impact on your immune system. This increases your risk for disease. It is not recommended that you enter a radiated field in current state. Please do something to make yourself happy."  
          3 minutes.  
"That's EV's way of telling you to 'cheer the fuck up.'" Tai tried to get his daughter to smile.  
          It didn't work.  
"Look. Just try to be excited. You're going to see neat things, meet some cool people, get into some epic battles. Just make sure you take lots of pictures and show me when you get back."  
"Dad. Seriously?" Liera blushed, "I'm going to a place that doesn't 'officially' exist, not leaving for my first day of school at the Academy. We're going there to do nothing but 'take lots of pictures,' and meet 'cool people,'  _very_ specifically to report back to you and Briggs." She coughed a laugh, "C'mon, you're makin' me look bad."  
"I don't give a shit." His brow creased, "You're my daughter, I'm allowed to do that."  
          2 minutes.  
          He hesitated before speaking, his mouth opening and closing as if he wasn't sure he wanted to say what was on his mind, "She would've been proud of you, you know. I'm sorry you never got to meet her."  
"I still feel like it's my fault, even after all this time…” Liera whispered.  
"I've told you for the last 24 years that it wasn't. Even if your mother  _didn't_  know the risks, you wouldn't have been at fault. But she did. And she took them." His fist tightened, "And I miss her every day, but I'll never stop honoring that courage. Because of her bravery, she gave me you."  
_"Fuck."_  
          Liera hated tears.  
          She swallowed them, her throat tying itself in knots.  
“EV, you take care of my little girl. That's an order. You hear me?" Tai spoke in his typical, 'overbearing-father' voice.  
"Yes, Captain Lastimosa." EV answered, "Protocol 3: 'Protect the Pilot.'"  
          The father and daughter sat in silence.  
          Liera felt like she had so much to say and such limited capacity to do so.  
"I can't lose you, too." A tear rolled down Tai’s face.  
          His hand murdered it and he tried to pretend it never happened.  
"Don't. Just- don't. Okay? I'll be fine. You'll be fine. We'll all be fine. We'll get this new settlement, and it's off to business as usual, right?" Liera hated seeing him upset.  
          She had always been the family rock; the one to act the whole when Tai and Jack were in pieces.  
"Right.”  
          1 minute.  
"I'm going to go, now. Five minutes of open lines have probably been too jeopardizing as it is." Liera took a deep breath, "And the Commander made it pretty clear we'd be dropping on time."  
          Tai cleared his throat, "Do you have the locket I gave you?"  
"Of course." Liera patted her chest, feeling the metal necklace under her vest, "Always."  
"Good."  
"Running full system diagnostics scan- preparing for deployment. Pilot, please stand by." EV announced.  
          Liera's gut wrenched.  
"Administering 25mg of promethazine for heightened nausea." EV's multitool pricked Liera's arm.  
          Her face went numb in fear.

"Administering 1mg of alprazolam to null increasing anxiety." Another prick from EV followed.  
          She closed her eyes as EV’s ocular panels in front of her portrayed the inside of the delivery ship- no longer grey walls with stagnant, green motion sensors.  
          45 seconds.  
"I love you, sweetie. Stay safe out there." Captain Lastimosa waved, "You too, EV."  
          Liera couldn't speak.  
"I will do my best, Captain. I wish you good health. Send BT and Cooper my regards."  
          Liera's constricted throat allowed passage of just enough air to say, "I love you too, dad."  
          Her drugged hand raised to wave goodbye.  Tai smiled the best he could, then the feed went black.  
          He was gone.  
          Sarah rang in, "EV, report system diagnostics and Pilot vital signs."  
"Diagnostics report: 'ZERO' discrepancies.  Titan Echo, Victor-5649 is ready for deployment. Scanning Pilot-Serial 35543-0625, condition: 'STABILIZING.' Administering additional 15mg of cyclobenzaprine to reduce muscle spasms. Pilot be advised- drug interactions and side effects include:"  
          Liera's hands trembled as she gripped the handles that controlled EV's arms. Her fingers slipped through, her thumb shakily enclosing on the steel bar.  
"Difficulty concentrating,"  
          Her breathing was ragged, and she felt hot air breaking through the cracks of her dried lips. She felt as if she'd chewed on cotton for the last hour of flight.  
"Dry mouth,"  
          Her helmet began to feel as if it was 20 pounds heavier, forcing her neck to roll forward before she snapped it back to the head of her chair. Her eyes rolled upward as her anxiety began to numb.

"Dizziness,"  
          Everything began to fade in and out of colorful blurs and crisp realities as she looked to the ceiling of the cockpit.  
"Blurred vision,"  
          Liera could barely see Sarah’s lips moving, and heard only muffled commotion.  
"Difficulty hearing,"  
          A bead of sweat rolled down her forehead, dangling on her eyelash before it fell onto her flushed cheek.  
"Intolerance to heat,"  
          Her brain pulsed, as if she could it pushing her scalp up around her implant, "Irregular heartbeat-"  
"Fuck…" Liera knew she was breathing, but she couldn't feel the rise and fall of her chest.  Just heat.  Heat, regret and everything in between.  
"-and impaired judgement. Please avoid activities requiring mental alertness until you know how these medications affect you." EV concluded.  
          20 seconds.  
"I'll take my chances." Liera used what little vigor she had, slipping her feet into holsters that gave command to EV's legs.  
"Affirmative. Transferring control to Pilot. AI landing countermeasures: 'ONLINE.'" EV's voice filled her ears, sounding louder than before, "BCI Link: 'ONLINE.'"  
          The Brain-Computer Interface implant in her head gave a faint glow, further illuminating the inside of her helmet.  
          There was a dashboard on either side of her with variously colored buttons, their functions displayed on LED screens beneath them. Liera hit, "INITIALIZE."  
"Repeat: 'Maverick,' do you copy?"  
          10 seconds.  
"Pilot Lastimosa is standing by." Liera gritted through her symptoms.  
          The hatch began to open and EV's ocular panels now depicted a night sky with a moon they'd never seen before. The wind from the belly of the delivery ship swept up and rattled the chains and latches around them. The drone-controlled vessel broke through the clouds, and the dark land below them was in sight.  
          5 seconds.  
"Good luck out there, Pilot." Sarah gave a brief smile.  
          EV's safety harnesses embraced her. Liera became a mess of nets, cushioned braces, and sluggish limbs.  
          The clock hit zero, and Sarah gave her final announcement:  
"Dropping now, stand by for Titanfall!"  
          Becoming one, their legs took the final step, leaving familiar grounds.  
          EV-5649 and Pilot Liera Lastimosa were unleashed unto the Commonwealth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Shout out to artist oliapaininaart.tumblr.com for character inspiration. Also, I know this is a realistic depiction of Sombra. It's perfect.)


	4. Military Frequency AF95

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"In our eyes, defeat is unacceptable because we're fighting for the future of mankind."_  
>  -Paladin Danse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _"Radiation Storm Sounds,"_ and _"Military Frequency AF95,"_ linked to text.

* * *

__

* * *

**“** roadcast found: Military Frequency AF95.”  The screech of EV’s radio tore through her dreams,  
“Pilot Lastimosa, it’s time to wake up.”  
                Liera’s crusted eyelids separated, revealing the projected view of the newly-singed ground. The fire in her chest smelted her sandy lungs into glass, puncturing shards behind her ribs.  
**“Haylen of…any unit in transmission range...Arx…Five,”** The voice of an unfamiliar woman was grating against Liera's eardrums.  
“EV…” Liera groaned, “scan vital signs, please.” She pointed her face to the ceiling, closing her eyes, trying to null the rising tide within her.  
“ **Our unit…casualties…low on supplies.”**

  
                EV’s diagnosis sprawled across the holographic display,  
“ **< Vitals Scan Initialized>**  
Body Temp.....97.1°F; 1.5°F under average.  Low body temperature could be caused by promethazine treatment.  
Pulse..............140 bpm; 40bpm over targeted resting bpm for women under the age of 25.   
Resp. Rate......27 breaths per minute; 7 breaths per minute over targeted breaths per minute for women under the age of 25.  
**< Assessing Blood Pressure>**  
Analyzing systolic number…  
Analyzing diastolic number…  
**< <Blood Presure Analysis Complete>>**  
Blood Pressure...150/95 mmHG.  
**Warning** : Vitals indicate hyperventilation and stage 1 hypertension. Please avoid strenuous activity until your vitals stabilize and medication side effects subside.”

  
                Liera felt fists in her stomach, their iron knuckles persistent on beating themselves out of her.  She fumblingly ripped off the safety harnesses, hitting the disembark button quicker than the Titan could argue.  Her knees hit the ground first, then her hands, and then her insides.   
                She greeted her new home with a stomach’s worth of puke.  
“Environment radiation levels: ‘HIGHER THAN NORMAL.’” EV scanned the tinted ground.  
                Liera spat the remnants clinging to her lips, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.  She leaned back on her knees, resting her posterior on the heels of her boots.  
**“We’re requesting…evac from…Cambridge Police Station.  Automated…”**  
                The sky was an infected green and full of rapidly moving bubbles, a fading sun splicing them. It cast a dangerous shadow under everything it touched.  
                They were on an island in a shallow pond, maybe a foot deep. There were tires, and logs, and a…bathtub?  
                To their right was a small house, its roof caved in and the wood rotten after what Liera assumed was at least a few decades. There was a sign that read, “Walden Pond Gift Shop,” dangling from the entrance.  
“ _No thanks…this tourist isn’t interested_.”  
**“This is Scribe…of Reconnaissance Squad Gladius to...”**  
                A ghastly light came from the base of a tree.  
“What is that?” Liera asked, pointing her chin to a glowing plant.  
                EV’s ocular hub rotated to where she looked, “Plant: UKNOWN. Radiation levels: 60%. Sample required for observation.”  
“Yeah, uh, I’m not touching that.”  
                Huge, dark structures stretched across the murky sky, cutting it in half. Some were bent and mangled, others had collapsed entirely, the mesh of their innards forming a new form of on-ramp.   
“Is that a freeway?” Liera asked.  
                Being from a colony with 40 million people, she’d seen a few in her day.  
“Was.  Surveying…” EV answered.  
**“Authorization…Ferrum. Nine…Sustained…and we’re running…”**  
                The trees that scattered the lands had no leaves, and the grass was decayed. All types of debris litter made up for the absence of wildlife; that is, it being everywhere.  It’s as if the environment was playing dress-up, trying to pass as a place that was inhabitable, hoping no one would see passed it’s camouflage.  
                Liera pressed her visor button, sending the hard-light HUD across her face once again.  
The data sprawled in the upper left hand corner,  
  
“ **< Terrain Analysis Initialized>**  
Life…minimal.  
Water supply…toxic.  
Plant life…radiated.  
Shelter…none within the immediate area.  
**Attention:** weather patterns indicate an imminent storm.” EV concluded.  
**  
**“Support or…our position at…message repeating…” The signal echoed.  
  
“Triangulate source of distress beacon. Silence communications until approach on target.” Liera mumbled, “Shit’s getting on my nerves.”  
                 She gripped her knee with her palm, forcing herself on two feet.  The wind carried a sickly scent, and a [metallic crackle echoed](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4O_Su1kpako) off the tarnished landscape around them.  The trees began to sway, the dim sunrays flickering between their barren arms.  
                More words appeared across her HUD: “Radiation levels…^ 6.56%.”  
                A verdant stretch of lightning erupted through the sky.  
“Lightning rod deployed.” A bar shot up from behind the cockpit.  
                EV bent to poke a metal finger in the dirt, stirring the earth and scanning it as she did.  
“What…happened here?” Liera asked, gawking at the yellow clouds rolling over the boulder-conquered lands.  
“Carbon, nitrogen, and radiation data suggests these conditions were the aftermath of nuclear fallout.”  EV sprinkled her dirt sample back into place.  
“Nuclear…like your reactor, kind of nuclear?”  
“I believe there is only one type of nuclear energy, Pilot Lastimosa.”  
                A slight gust slipped between Liera’s jumpsuit and her gear, her data knife’s holster rattling against her chest.  
                A vicious snarl was carried across her ears.  
“I recommend we embark.” EV sounded nervous.  
“Good suggestion,” Liera hastily returned to the cockpit, feeling safer twenty feet in the air, “Which direction was the broadcast coming from?”  
“5 kilometers southeast of our current location.” EV answered, closing her doors and enabling her vision panels.  
“Alright.  Let’s follow the fallen highway east until we can find a visible route south.  We don’t know what’s out there- better stick to the main roads.  Transferring control to Titan.” Liera clicked a button under her dashboard, opening a cabinet.  
                 She retracted her visor before retrieving a bottle of water and a high-protein nutrition bar.  
“Operation: Wasteland Order commencing.” EV responded.  
                The two began their trek into the crawling tendrils of shitty visibility.  
“I think we started our mission when we plummeted 400 meters.” The water bottle crinkled as she chugged it, dulling the demons inside her that still clawed for freedom, “How long have I been out?”  
“6 hours, 45 minutes, and 15 seconds; 51% of the recommended sleeping period for a Pilot who remained active for 48 hours.”  
“You’re the one that woke me up.” Liera smirked.  
“A military distress beacon is an appropriate avenue for first contact.” EV stomped along, climbing over obstacles that would be too large for the average traveler, “Based on your previous behavioral patterns, I determined embarking would be preferable.  However, I found it necessary to inform you that you are operating at 49% less than optimal levels.”  
                Liera munched on her snack, hoping it wouldn’t upset her stomach again, “Well, thanks for lookin’ out, EV.”  
“We are a team.  We look out for one another.” EV responded.  
                Liera smiled, continuing to look around the Titan’s 180° display.  She pinned their rear-view camera off to the side, giving her an unobscured view as they traversed.    
“This place gives me the fucking creeps.” Liera shivered as they broke off branches and crushed logs with their size, “I’d hate to be you right now.”  
                Another boom of radioactive thunder called out from above, like a tuba being blown by angry gods.  
“I am forty tons of steel and have enough artillery to level 8 kilometers of terrain.  If I weighed one-hundred-and-eighty-pounds of muscle, I would be quite envious of me in a place like this.”  
“Well, when you put it like that…”  
                The two continued through the nightmarish hills.  
“So, we gonna’ bounce ideas around about what that monster-sound was?” Liera shivered at the remembrance of the growls, muffled as they were.  
“We will discuss that once your anxiety levels have decreased.”   
                Liera’s heart accelerated, “That doesn’t make me feel better.”  
“It seems my statement has backfired.  Frequent human saying, ‘Ignorance is bliss,’ proven: ‘FALSE.’ Deleting from archive.”  
                She decided that she didn’t want to think about it.  
                One thing at a time.  
“Assisting this other reconnaissance group will help us establish connections with the locals, but…”  Liera sighed, “They’re military.  I wonder how they’re going to react to seeing a Titan.”  
“Assuming that I am the only Titan in ‘The Commonwealth.’” EV reasoned.  
“I suppose that’s true.”  
                The ground shifted into a shape that Liera studied in her “History of the Frontier,” classes, “Hey, those are old-school railroad tracks.  More likely to find a settlement if we follow them.”  
“Heading south will push us deeper into the storm.” EV warned, “However, the signal is getting stronger. Frequency strength ^ 43%.”  
“Guess it’s time to put that conductive shielding paint job work.” Liera huffed, “And I sure as hell didn’t squeeze my ass into this uncomfortable hazmat-threaded shit for nothing.”  
                A faint glow illuminated EV as they passed a tire fire surrounded by scrap metal and a shanty-style hut.  Food cans and skeletons dotted the center.  
                On their other side stretched a desolate recreational area marked by a cartoon-cutout of a bear holding a sign.  
“Hey, what does that say? ‘Don’t…don’t feed the…don’t feed the bears?’”  Liera couldn’t easily read it through the savage claw marks that tore across the letters, “Hah! That’s ironic.  I’m totally showing dad and Jack.”  
“Recon asset assessment: ‘IRRELEVANT.” EV said.  
“Smart ass…” Liera grabbed another bottle of water from her supply, “Speaking of irrelevant, what could the IMC possibly want here?”  
“Resource material, most likely.  Losing ground in Demeter was catastrophic for them.”  
_“Resources.  Those things that they murder us for. Duh.”_  
                Liera wished she was at home defending the Frontier and not traversing a wasteland out in the middle of some no-named galaxy.  
                The upwards trek turned into a downwards slope, uneven and tampered with by years of post-fallout natural reclamation.  
“Movement detected.” EV announced, “Proceeding with caution.”  
                 She shook her nerves.  It was no time to be scared, no matter how unsettling everything was.  
“First fundamental rule of reconnaissance: ensure continuous reconnaissance.  Gotta’ keep moving.”  
                A light broke through the yellow-green haze, horizontal and distorted by the thick particles in the air.  
                EV's feet kept moving towards it until there was no more railroad to follow. A farm of shrunken trees sprawled in the distance, a small army of robotic care-takers floating between them.  
“Is that…what is that?” Liera stuttered, “It looks like a farm, but there’s nothing but robots.”  
                One of the lights focused on EV, “Shit, I think one of them is coming this way.”   
“Should we introduce ourselves?” EV asked.  
“From the cockpit, sure. I’m not going out there.”  
                Another metallic clamor overhead underlined her assessment.  
                They approached the floating vessel. EV knelt on a knee, her ocular hub meeting it at eye-level.  
                It was a tripod with curled, jointed, metal tentacles that held tools of various measure.  In the center, there was a rocket projecting it off the ground.  Everything conjoined at the head, a white dome where three eye-shaped baubles jutted in either direction.  It was an impulsively designed robot.  Effective, though.  And cute, in a derpy sort of way.  
“If you’re looking for a trade…then LET’S. MAKE. A. DEAL!” A green robot shouted in the background, like an under-produced Frontier Market commercial.   
                The white one paused to stare at it, and the continued to hover towards Liera and EV.  
“Welcome to Graygarden, my oversized darling! This is the Commonwealth’s first and only hydroponics facility run entirely by robots.”  The robot announced.  Her voice oozed of sex, like a show girl from the Clubs.  
                EV’s notes glinted across Liera’s eyes:  
“Opening Archive…data entry titled: ‘Graygarden.’  Coordinates saved.”  
                EV continued to document their exchange.  
“Ah…greetings, there, my metal friend. My name is EV.”  Liera lied, “Hydroponics-growing plants without soil, right? That’s quite the feat. Maintained all by robots, you say?”  
                The robot was a special kind of adorable.  
“That’s right, darling.  We are entirely self-sufficient, with no need for human guidance.  Come, come.”  She waved her saw-wielding tentacle towards the farm, leading EV away from the crops, “You see, there are two kinds of robots here. The worker drones in the fields carry out labor and maintenance. We supervisors possess sophisticated cognition processors.  We are capable of complex analysis and decision-making, a testament to the genius of our creator, Doctor Edward Gray.”  
                Liera was brimming with questions, but was intent on sticking to her mission, “That’s all very interesting, but I’m afraid I’m in need of some assistance.” The human pilot did her best to keep her manner of speech believable to a machine, “Where can I find the Cambridge Police Station?”  
                The quirky supervisor lifted an arm with the hand of a pruning device, pointing out into the rainless storm, “A short hike in that general direction, darling. Are you responding to the distress beacon that sounded last night? You certainly seem more than capable of helping the poor souls.”  
                 Liera assessed the question.  She would tell the truth, “I am, Supervisor…uh, I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”  
“Supervisor White,” The robot answered, “Do you have a cargo area? We’d be more than happy to send supplies to the Brotherhood of Steel.”  
                Supervisor White was proving to be a great source of information.  
“I…yes, I do have a storage space.  Could you tell me more about this faction?  I’m not from around here.”  
“Clearly. One moment,” Supervisor White turned and shouted over the thunder, “Greene! Have the workers ready a crate of mutfruit and purified water!”  
“Ladies and Gentlemen!  This contestant has played AMAZINGLY! Let’s collect her WONDEROUS prize!” Her green counterpart answered.  
“ _Strange one.”_  
“I do not know much about the Brotherhood, darling, only that the beacon is being cast from a Scribe.  She must be within their ranks; the title is carried by no other.”  Two worker drones hovered to Supervisor White, carefully handing a wooden crate to EV.   
                 Liera read the words of her companion:  
“ <<ERROR>> Pilot, we do not have a cargo area.  If your intent was to store it on your person, opening the cockpit doors will cause further exposure to radiation and reveal your identity to Supervisor White.  Awaiting input.”  
“Just…I don’t know, stick it somewhere.” Liera whispered, “Balance it between the railgun and your hatch-we’ll figure it out later.”  
                 EV pinched the crate in her fingers, careful not to destroy it.  She lowered it onto her back, dropping it where instructed.  
“Thank you, Supervisor White.  You’ve been very helpful.  I’ll make sure the Brotherhood of Steel receives these supplies.” Liera spoke.  
“Do be careful.  These radiation storms tend to attract packs of feral ghouls, and we’ve seen a deathclaw patrolling the streets bordering Cambridge.” Supervisor White paused, “Oh, and EV, darling, do send the Brotherhood Greygarden’s best regards upon delivery.  We could use some of their muscle keeping raiders away.” She exclaimed.  
“ _Ah, so this crate is a bargaining chip. Smart little robot.”_  
“I’ll make sure they know where it came from, Ms. White.” Liera’s brows pinched, “Feral ghouls? Deathclaw? Could you explain further?”  
“Feral ghouls are radiated humans that are aggressive to anything that moves. A deathclaw is…well, a large, horned beast that stands about half the height as you.   No match for a mechanical wonder such as yourself.” Supervisor White turned, taking a clipboard from a worker drone, “Now, I simply must return to my work. Safe journeys, darling!” She waved a metal limb as EV stood, turning toward the location the tripod pointed to.  
                As the duo began their descent farther down the hill, EV pinched the crate lodged between her metal plates, “Opening cockpit for delivery.”  
                Liera clicked on her filter, holding her breath as if it would make a difference.  
                The doors only opened long enough Liera to take the package from EV, placing it in the space under her seat.  
“At least we’ll earn some credit with this when we meet them, right?” Liera patted the box.  
“Are Credits this planet’s form of currency, as well?” EV continued to walk as she spoke, “If so, we have plenty.”  
                 She laughed, “No, not that credit.  Like, you know, gratitude.  It’s just a saying, EV.”  
                They continued to climb down a cliff made damaged structures, finding a crumbling road at the base.  Two crooked poles framed an intersection ahead.  They held yellow rectangles with dead, glass bulbs, threatening to drop as they swayed.   
                Shadows of buildings held a glow from the hued sun that descended from the green heavens.  
                Another sound broke through the thunder.  
                Gunfire.  
                It didn’t sound like her guns, though.  It was more like an Arc-tool from home.  
“Scanning terrain for site of conflict…Source confirmed- most probable origin of the distress beacon.  Broadcasting Military Frequency AF95:”  
**“[This is Scribe Haylen](https://youtu.be/nV8oknb5YUU?t=39s) of Reconnaissance Squad Gladius to any unit in transmission range.**  
**Authorization Arx. Ferrum. Nine. Five. Our unit has sustained casualties and we're running low on supplies. We're requesting support or evac from our position at Cambridge Police Station. Automated message repeating...”**  
“Broadcast ended.” EV announced.   
                Liera’s eyes squinted to the back of the building closest to them, “That one, with the fence on the top and the radio tower.  That’s gotta be it.”  EV hastened towards the city, the ground trembling beneath her dashing feet.

              The same treacherous snarls and gurgles from before bounced against the bricks of the crumbling town, “Vocal patterns suggest human-like creatures.  I believe they are what Supervisor White identified as: ‘feral ghouls.’  Proceeding with caution.”  
                The gunfire was louder, coming from the opposite side of the suspected police station.  
“The alley is too narrow for you to fit through,” Liera slipped her limbs out of her harness, “Loop around the building and meet me out front.”  
                 Liera loaded her Hemlok BF-R assault rifle as she disembarked upon the roof.  
“I will meet you there, Pilot.” EV took off down the road winding around the Cambridge Police Station.   
                Liera’s jumpkit initialized as she sprinted across a painted yellow “H”, both hands securing her weapon.  
                Her trigger finger was anxious.  
_"Well, here goes nothing.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _“No thanks…this tourist isn’t interested.”_  
>   
> 
> This line is a nod to [tafferling](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6304081/chapters/14998354), an author who has helped me immensely during my journey to become a better writer. 
> 
> It's a reference to Kyle Crane, one of her main characters in her Dying Light fic, _"Latchkey Hero."_


	5. First Contact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Plans never survive first contact."_  
>  -Tai Lastimosa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ** _Archive Quick Reference Guide_**  
>   
>  **Hemlok BF-R:** The Hemlok BF-R is an effective mid-long range weapon, as its tight firing pattern and impressive damage make it capable of downing an enemy in four shots or less.  
>  **Jump Kit:** Jump kits are small jetpacks that are worn around the waist. They enable sustained wall running, improved Pilot maneuverability in combat situations, and the ability to safely fall from great heights.  
>  **Holo Pilot:** This ability deploys a hologram that mimics its Pilot, deceiving enemies into believing it is a real enemy.  
>  **Sonar Blade:** Lethal and deadly, the Pulse Blade can be thrown at an enemy and provides a brief sonar pulse that can detect enemies, even through walls.  
>  **Gravity Star:** Used like a traditional grenade, this throwing-star shaped ordnance sticks into any surface. After a short delay, the grenade generates a blurry purple field which pulls in enemies and projectiles.  
>  **Data Knife:** A standard-issue Pilot device used for hacking enemy robots on the battlefield. It can be used on a multitude of other electronic devices, connecting directly with the Titan’s analytic systems.  
>  **Railgun:** The Plasma Railgun fires a traveling plasma pulse with high accuracy out to long range.  
>  **Electric Smoke:** When activated, it disperses smoke, which may hide the Titan`s movement from enemies. These enemies quickly become electrified, damaging and disorienting them.  
>  **Acolyte Pods:** Gimbal-mounted missile launchers that are capable of self-reloading as well as carrying weapons on the Titan's back.

* * *

* * *

 

                iera planted her boot on the second wrung of the roof’s fence, stopping herself from vaulting into the conflict below.  
_“What the…”_  
                A mechanical figure stood in between a hoard of charging predators and the entrance to the police station.  It shot red beams of light that disintegrated the monsters that trickled through strategically placed barricades.  
_“Plasma?”_  
                 Her rifle grew unsteady in her trembling hands.   
                The assailants were compiled of rotting flesh that flailed upon disjointed limbs.  Small glints of sickly, yellow dots were substitutes for eyes in sunken sockets.  
                And the metal soldier was being overrun by them.  
“Reloading!” It yelled.  
“We’ll cover you!” A woman responded from below the overhang that Liera found herself perched upon.  
                She recognized the voice from the transmission.  
                More red plasma left tunnels through the thick, green air that rolled in the radiation storm.  
                 Liera took a deep breath to calm her nerves, reeling in more of the cancerous vapor.  
                She retrieved a pulse blade from her belt, throwing it into the center of the battlefield.  It released a sonar scan that penetrated the walls surrounding her.  
                The pulse reported more than twenty ghouls within their immediate vicinity.  
“See them, EV?” Liera asked through her helmet’s radio.  
“Tagged parties confirmed. Rounding the corner now.” EV answered.  
“Reloading!” The woman below called.  
               Another swarm of ghouls burst through the windows of an abandoned factory across the street, bloodthirsty howls emitting from their decaying jaws.  
                A metal arm swept the ground, painting the town’s walls with their splattered bodies.  
                EV assessed the steel-bound figure below, who stepped back from her nervously.  
                Liera sent a digital clone of herself into an approaching third pack of diseased creatures while she ran against the wall to her left, her jump kit flaring at her waist.  
“Civilian in the perimeter! Check your fire!” The robot commanded.  
_“I’ll show you ‘civilian.’”_  
                The deceptive holo-pilot dashed into the death that threatened to claim the fighting party below her.  
“Hold your fire! Wastelander, what are you-“  
                The ghouls attacked the hologram, yelling louder as they failed to kill the apparent Pilot in front of them.  
                Liera deployed a gravity star into the conflict, an anti-gravity vortex grenade that pulled the twisted humans to their knees, collecting them in the center.  
                Pilot Lastimosa leapt from the building into the grasp of her Titan, who threw her in the cockpit.  
                The doors closed, and the two Frontier soldiers prepared for combat.    
“Transferring control to Pilot,” EV announced, “Railgun: Online.”  
 “Alright EV,” Liera slipped her limbs into the control holsters of her mechanical friend, retrieving the plasma cannon from her back, “Let’s show them what we’re made of.”  
                 EV’s railgun fired into the pool of gravity-bound ghouls, the splash-damage singeing any that slipped around the force field.  
                A harrowing roar echoed above the broken sign of the Cambridge Police Station.  Two piercing, red eyes shot through the blackness that was smoke and radiation.  A new challenger had arrived.  
“Deathclaw!” The robotic figure yelled, standing between the clearing and his comrades that huddled in the entrance.  
                The over-sized lizard launched itself at him, it’s furled horns and foot-long talons moving in a scaly blur.  
                The Pilot brought EV’s fist down on its tail.  The limb snapped off the creature, failing to pin it to the ground.  
“God damn it,” Liera swore as the robot-man braced, falling to the ground under the creature’s weight.  
                Luckily, they had pissed it off enough to gain its attention.  
“What, miss your tail?” Liera taunted through the loudspeakers as the detached ligament twitched on the ground.   
                It screeched in the air, it’s muscular legs propelling it forward until it was within striking distance.  It jumped at them, and EV wasn’t fast enough to catch it.  
                The deathclaw clung to the cockpit, it’s dripping teeth and hot breath fogging the camera as it latched onto the cockpit.  
_“God, that’s terrifying.”_  
                EV’s external countermeasures were deployed, releasing a plume of smoke that she electrified once it encased the beast.  The Titan dropped the railgun, wrapping her hands around the disoriented reptile.  She pulled it off her chassis and pinned it to the ground, her two gimble-mounted missile launchers on her back aiming at the squirming victim before releasing a round.  
“Neutralized.” EV proclaimed.  
                The storm began to clear, revealing a late-afternoon sun that greeted them through the remnants of chaos.  
                EV hoisted the railgun, hesitantly opening the cockpit and releasing Liera.  She walked out on the gun’s barrel, crouching and resting an elbow on her knee.  
                The robot guard aimed his weapon at them, “Stop right there, civilian. No unauthorized personal are permitted beyond this point.”  
_“And just what are you gonna do?”_  
                He stood at six and a half feet, his silver paint glistening in the new light.  The ocular sockets were blackened and fierce, with what looked like a gas-mask attachment at the mouth.  It was hulking and made of solid craftsmanship, that couldn’t be denied.  It reminded her of a compact version of EV with less sophisticated programming and inferior firepower.  
“That’s not much of a thank you!”  Liera called out.    
                The robot considered her words, not lowering his rifle, “We appreciate your assistance.  What’s your business here?”  
“First, tell me whose authority you’re commissioned under.” The Pilot pressed.  
“We operate under Elder Arthur Maxson, supreme commander of the Brotherhood of Steel.” He answered, “Now… tell me what you’re doing here, or be on your way.”  
                Liera scoffed, “Local do-gooder, heard your distress beacon. Came to help. Helped.”  
                 He sighed, “Continuously evading my questions is a surefire way of getting yourself ejected from the compound. Let’s try a different question.  Are you from a local settlement?” He asked.  
“Graygarden.  I was sent with supplies.”  Liera tried to convince him.     
“With a machine like that? I find that a bit difficult to believe.” He rebutted.  
                She pointed her thumb to the cockpit behind her, “Got a box of home-grown mutfruit and purified water to prove it.  If you want any, you’ll let me in for a quick chat.”  
“That’s not going to happen.” The persistent robot growled, “Unless you’re one of us, you’re not setting foot inside this base.”  
“Then make me one of you.” Liera’s words hung with uncertainty as she spewed them.  
_“Reconnaissance by cultural integration…not my first choice, but it’ll have to do.  I don’t think we’re blending in any time soon.”_  
“Well, if you’re here to sign up, I might have some work for you.  Then we can discuss whatever you like.” He answered.    
_“Can’t seem too desperate.”_  
“Sure.  Fill us in.” Liera demanded, “The more we know, the better we may assist.”  
“Very well.” He said.  
                The soldier lowered his gun, holstering it on his leg.  His metal hands encased his head, lifting it from his shoulders.  
                A human head was revealed.  
_“There’s a person in there?”_  
                He wore a hood that framed his chiseled jaw and dark brows.  A scar extended down the right side of his face, breaking over one of his brown eyes.  A groomed, shallow scruff framed a pair of thick lips, stern and bold.  
“Detecting increased heart acceleration.” EV wrote.  
“Paladin Danse, Brotherhood of Steel.” He introduced himself, “Over there is Scribe Haylen and Knight Rhys.”  
                The two returned a nervous wave.  
“Our mission here has been difficult. Since the moment we arrived in the Commonwealth, we’ve been constantly under fire.” Danse explained.    
“I can attest to that.”  Liera agreed, “So, what’s your mission?”  
“We’re on recon duty, but I’m down a man and our supplies are running low.  I’ve been trying to send a distress call to my superiors, but the signal’s too weak to reach them.”  
                Haylen interjected, “Sir, if I may?”  
“Proceed, Scribe Haylen.” Danse granted.  
                 She looked to Liera, “I’ve modified the radio tower on the roof of the police station, but I’m afraid it just isn’t enough. What we need is something to boost the signal.”  
“Our target is ArcJet Systems, and it contains the technology we need… the Deep Range Transmitter. We infiltrate the facility, secure the transmitter, and bring it back here.”  Danse raised his brow, “So, what do you say?  You willing to lend the Brotherhood of Steel a hand?”  
“Maybe…if you’ll answer one more question.” Liera grinned behind her visor.  
“Go on.” He wasn’t enthusiastic about her request.  
“Who exactly is the Brotherhood of Steel?”  
“Our Order seeks to understand the nature of technology.  It’s power. It’s meaning to us as humans…” His voice lowered, “And we fight to secure that power from those who would abuse it.”  
                Liera was surprised, “Abuse it?”  
“Before the Great War, science and technology became more of a burden than a benefit.”  Danse grew angry, “The atom bomb, bio-engineered plagues and FEV are clear examples of the horrors that technological advancement had wrought.  We’re here to make sure that never happens again.”  
                Liera thought about the IMC, and how they used their technology to wreak havoc upon the Frontier for resources.  But she was also reminded of how the Militia retrieved their first Titans: Stealing them from defeated IMC forces to use for their own benefit.  She wasn’t sure on which side the Brotherhood fell in her homeland comparison.  
“You’re not gonna try to scrap my Titan for the sake of Brotherhoodly research, are you?  She’s got a nasty temper, and she doesn’t like being tampered with.”  
                Danse seemed put off by her question, “I’m sure I won’t be alone in my curiosity towards you or your…’Titan.’  But no.  No harm will come to you or your machine.”   
“EV,” Liera corrected, “Her name is EV.”  
“Name?  Why name a robot?”  
“She’s not just…never mind.” Liera sighed, “Look. We don’t need to go to ArcJet Systems.  We have all the signal-boosting-power we need right here.”  
                She leapt from the railgun, landing in front of him.  EV placed her railgun on her back, opening her cockpit.  Liera turned to her, yanking the crate from beneath the Pilot seat, “We’ll help on two conditions.”  
                Liera walked it over to Danse, placing it at his feet, “You place troops at Graygarden and recommend me into your ranks if your title holds the weight to do so.”  
                Danse put his hands on his hips, staring at the ground in contemplation.  
                He lifted his gaze to her, “The first condition I can promise if our signal reaches the Capital.  The second requires an evaluation…Initiate.”  
                Liera smirked and called out to her friend, “What do you say, EV?”    
                EV’s cockpit closed, the light on her ocular sensor illuminating with its standard blue color.  Her lens twitched and looked around, eyeing up Danse carefully.  As she stood, her shadow extended over the Cambridge Police Station. She voiced through her loudspeaker, “If you provide me with the targeted frequency, I would be happy to transmit your message.”  
                Danse eyed the robot in return, “A technological marvel you have on your hands, there.”  
“Yeah, thanks.” Liera knocked her knuckle against the insignia on his metal suit, “What’s this getup you’ve got going on?”  
                 His eyebrows furrowed, “It’s a suit of Power Armor.” He picked up the crate, “Haylen, take Rhys inside and bind his wounds.”  
“Yes, sir.” She answered.  
                Danse turned back to Liera, “Head into the police station and resupply yourself, then let me know when you're ready to begin.”  
“Alright,” She agreed, “You gonna be alright out here for a little bit?” Liera asked EV.  
“My defensive capabilities outmatch anything we’ve encountered in the Commonwealth, Pilot.  I assure you, I will be ‘alright.’  Guard mode: INITIATED.”  
                 Liera followed the him into the building, passing Haylen who lifted an injured soldier from the ground.  
“All right big guy, let’s go.” Haylen said.  
                She had blue eyes and wore a red jumpsuit rather than the orange color of her injured comrade.  Her cap and goggles strapped to her forehead hid any traces of hair.  A military knapsack hung on her shoulders.  
“Yeah, yeah…I’m comin’.” Rhys grunted.  
                Rhys had short hair and a slight beard.  He was young, armed only with a rifle and some leather padding.  
_“Recon team meets recon team…Maybe we’ll be able to wrap this up sooner than later and go home…”_  
                Liera held the door for Haylen, who walked Rhys with her shoulder acting as a crutch.  
“So, you gonna patch me up, or what?” Rhys asked.  
“I don’t know, your prognosis looks pretty grim.  Might be more humane to just to take you out back and shoot you.” Haylen responded.  
                It made Liera uncomfortable.  
“You’re all heart, doc.”  Rhys said.  
  _“Okay, so she was joking.”_  
“Just quit squirming so I can get these bandages on.” Haylen lowered him against a wall.  
                The confidence Liera felt began to dissipate as the doors shut behind them.  It was just her and three strangers that could vaporize her at any second.  
                The police station was aged, rusted, and dingy, but surprisingly well fortified.  A greeting counter stood at the back.  A mess of tangled cables sat around a radio at the end of it.  
“Is this what you’ve been working with?” Liera asked, approaching the device.  
“Yeah, hot-shot.  Not all of us have some super-computer doing our work for us.” Rhys grimaced as he met the floor.   
                Liera ignored the taunt, taking her data knife from her vest.  Danse pulled a pistol on her.  
“Whoa, whoa, relax.” She held her hands up in surrender, “It’s not a weapon.  It’s a systems diagnostic tool.”  She waved it in her hand, “It’ll let me know what can be improved on this, uh, contraption.”  
                 Danse lowered his weapon, “Apologies.”  
                 Liera broke into a sweat, placing her hands on the radio’s case.  She put the data knife near the circuit board, the LED screen on the “blade” coming to life with numbers and codes.   
“Opening speaker,” She clicked her helmet, “EV, run code EBC dash 3056.”  
                The three Brotherhood of Steel members waited for a response.  
“Running diagnostics.  Pilot, be advised: Vitals expanding into hypertension stage 2.”  
                She blushed, “Really?  In front of our new friends?”  
“Perhaps your new companions can convince you to rest for a moment.”  
“Oh, is that jealousy I hear?” She smiled, tampering with the radio.  
“Backtalk from a robot?” Danse looked at Liera suspiciously.   
“The ultimate diagnostic tool and babysitter.  Does it read you bedtime stories, too?” Rhys snickered.  
                Liera rest her hand on the counter, turning her head to look at him, “If you keep your mouth shut, you might learn something.” Her blue-lit visor shed a hue on the mouthy soldier.  
“Listen smartass, I don’t take advice from anyone except from up Top.” Rhys murmured, “So keep it to yourself.”  
“You always this angry with people who come to help you?” Liera asked hotly.  
“I’m not angry, I’m just letting you know where you stand.” Rhys said.  
“Well from where I’m ‘standing’, you’re sitting pretty low.” She glared.  
“Got some backbone? Good. You’ll need it if you keep hanging with us.” He clenched his teeth as Haylen sprinkled disinfectant on his wound.  
                Liera rolled her eyes, “What is this, some community club?”  
“Damn right,” Rhys coughed.  
                 Her grip tightened around the data knife, “I don’t have the patience for this.”  
“You better make some, then.  And learn your place.” He continued.  
“Enough, Knight.” Danse interjected.  
                Rhys stayed silent.  
_“Ungrateful prick.”_  
“Pilot, follow on-screen instructions to link Military Frequency AF95 to the radio tower.  I will be able to intercept and boost the signal from there.”  
                A grinding noise came from the Power-Armor-suited Paladin next to her.  The doors on his back expanded, and he stepped out of his silver encasement.  He was muscular, refined…tall-  
“I’ll show you the way.” Danse offered, removing his hood and revealing a head of thick, black hair.  
                He ran his fingers through it to release it from its matted state.  
“Uh, yeah. Okay.” She pulled the data knife from the radio, placing it back in her vest.  
“Don’t worry about this guy,” Haylen consoled, “Rhys only sees one thing…Rhys.  Don’t take it personally.”  
                 He huffed.  
“Right, well…I should get to work.” Liera rubbed her arm.  
“You do that.” Rhys responded.  
“Let’s go.” Danse interrupted, walking in front of the aggravated Pilot.  
                She bit her tongue and followed him.  
                He led her around the desk, proceeding through a narrow corridor that emptied out onto a set of stairs.  His tall figure loomed above her as he began his ascent.  She observed the muscles in his thighs, stretching the fabric of the orange jumpsuit he wore as he took each step.  
_“Seriously, woman, get your hormones in check.”_  
                Danse pushed the door open, holding it for her as she walked through.  
“Thanks.” She answered, walking passed him onto the roof.  The sight of her best friend watching over them put her at ease.  Danse joined her in the observation.   
“Did you build it?” He asked, clasping his hands behind his back.  
“Yeah.  My father and I designed her chassis.”  
“You speak of…her…as if she’s a person.” He was confused by the concept.  
                Liera turned to the radio tower, zeroing in on the control panel, “The bond between a Pilot and a Titan really isn’t that different than between two people.  Once you’re linked, it’s hard to function without each other.”  She knelt, removing the cover.  
                EV began her scan of the circuit board.  
“A strange application of technology.  Useful, nonetheless.” Danse’s eyes remained locked to the Titan, “Even if it means enslaving yourself to a machine.”  
“Do you feel enslaved to your Power Armor?” Liera asked, tampering with the switches that were highlighted on her HUD.  
“No.” He responded.  
“And does your Power Armor feel like an extension of yourself when you embark?”  
                He mulled over the question before answering, “I suppose.”  
“Well, then it’s not so different.” She answered, “The only difference is that Titans have a personality.”  
“’Personality,’ should not be a part of a robot’s programming.  It’s wrong.” Danse scoured.    
“That Titan has saved more lives than you can imagine.”  The lights began to flicker upon the radio tower shaft, “You’re pretty quick to judge a specimen you don’t understand for someone who claims their organization is hell-bent on studying technology.”  
“Watch your tone, Initiate.”  
_“’Watch your tone, Initiate.’”_ Liera silently mocked him.  
                He allowed the Pilot and Titan to work in silence.  It made Liera feel awkward after such a heated conversation.  
“So, why the police station?” She asked, redirecting a few wires.  
“Given the nature of the facility, we felt it would be tactically advantageous to search it for weapons and ammunition,” Danse turned his gaze back to her, “The radio tower on the roof was an unexpected boon, but it obviously has its shortcomings that need to be rectified.”   
“Working on it.” Liera said.    
                 Danse walked to her side, kneeling to watch her work.  
“It might not be as imposing as the Citadel back in the Capital Wasteland, but it suits our purposes.” He continued, “That’s all I’m willing to divulge at this point.”  
_“I’ll just nod my head and pretend I know what the fuck he’s talking about.”_  
                An electric hum echoed up metal arms that reached into the sky, the satellite’s power indicator turning blue.  She victoriously shut the panel, “Whatever generator you’ve got hooked up has a low output, but enough to get a signal out there.”    
“Are you ready to proceed with the mission?” Danse asked.  
“Ready.” She answered, “Thanks, EV.”  
“No problem, Pilot.”  
                Danse’s brow creased.  
“Paladin Danse, what is the target frequency?” EV inquired.  
“Your goal is to reach the frequency named, ‘Libertalia,’ Elder Maxon’s personal communications line in the Citadel.” He answered.  
  
“Satellite targeting initializing…  
Searching…  
Searching…  
<<TARGET ACQUIRED>>  
Patching through.”  
  
                A man’s voice rattled through the speaker on Liera’s helmet.  
“This is Elder Maxson of the Brotherhood of Steel responding to Military Frequency AF95.  What’s your status?”  
“Elder Maxson, this is Paladin Danse of Recon Squad Gladius reporting.” He cleared his throat, “All that remain from our initial deployment are Scribe Haylen and Knight Rhys.  I’m currently speaking to you through an Initiate’s…computer terminal.”  
                A loud wane of white noise caused Liera to jerk her head.     
“Brotherhood soldiers take responsibility for their actions and move on.  I expect no less out of you, Paladin.” The Elder responded coldly.  
_“Man, this guy makes Commander Briggs sound warm and snuggly.”_  
“The bravery of the fallen in the face of the unknown exemplifies what it means to be part of the Brotherhood.  What became of the Boston Airport?” Elder Maxson asked.  
“Unsecure.” Danse answered quietly.    
“Then your mission is simple.  Relocate the remaining assets and secure the Airport.  Our mission cannot continue until this has been successfully executed.”  
“But-“  
“I’m giving you a direct order, Paladin, and I expect you to follow it without question.” Elder Maxson commanded.    
                Danse’s fists tightened.  
“Yes, Elder Maxson.”  
“Good. Report when your mission is completed. Ad Victoriam, Paladin.”  
“Ad Victoriam, Elder.”  
“Broadcast: ENDED.” EV said.  
                Being shamed in front of an Initiate wasn’t standard protocol, Liera guessed.  
“Doesn’t seem too friendly.” She commented.  
“You’re making a foolishly hasty assessment.” Danse whispered, “We should inform the others.”  
                The pride-struck Paladin turned on his heel, walking back the way they’d come.   
                Liera looked to her Titan, who shrugged a pair of metal shoulders.  
_“What did we get ourselves into, EV?”_


	6. R&R

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Too often we must choose between **reconnaissance** and **reconciliation.** Only a true wordsmith accomplishes both."_  
>  -Major Anderson, Frontier Militia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ** _Archive Quick Reference Guide_**  
>   
>  **Prowlers:** They are fast, agile and deadly creatures comparable in size to that of a massive tiger or leopard.

* * *

* * *

                 he door latched behind her as she gazed at the stairs that led back to the common area. Danse’s voice filled the hall, his authority bouncing off the concrete.  Liera took her time descending, her stomach turning in knots as she grew closer to a heated argument.   
                She heard Rhys hurl an insult followed by “Pilot.”  
  _“Gotta keep up the tough girl act.  Can’t let them get to me.  Can’t let this_ place _get to me.”_  
                Liera straightened her shoulders, puffed her chest, and marched around the corner.   
“What do you _mean_ ‘secure’ the Airport?  There’s three us, and at least twenty of them, and let’s not revisit our run in with the Behemoth.” Rhys shouted.  
“Do I need to remind you who’s in charge here, Knight?” Danse yelled.  
                Rhys sat down, gripping his side as his wounds pained him.  
“And there’s _four_ of us…and a very big, very helpful piece of technology.” Danse corrected.     
_“I’m literally_ right _here, guys.”_  
“We don’t know anything about her. Where she’s from.  Who she works for.  What that _thing_ is standing outside with a gun half the length of this building.” Rhys continued.  
                Liera chuckled.  
“Is something funny?” Rhys asked.  
_“Busted.  Oops.”_  
“Oh, no. Nothing at all.”  
“Why don’t you just get out of here?”  
“Rhys.  I’m only going to repeat myself once.” Danse jabbed a finger at him, “Enough.”  
“I came to help you, remember?” Liera rolled her eyes, “Jesus, I can’t win with you.”  
“Win? This isn't a contest. I'm just trying to understand what you're doing here.” Rhys continued, “Are you even human?  Or are you a robot like your buddy out there?”  
                Liera hit the retraction button on her helmet.  
“Very human.  You wanna know more? Ask me something.” She propped herself against the wall, “I’ll answer as honestly as I can.”  
“Let’s start with…” Haylen started, “Your name.  What should we call you, Initiate?”  
_“I like her.”_  
“Liera.” She tapped the patch that read “LASTIMOSA” on her jumpsuit, “Lastimosa is my last name.”  
“Are you military?” Danse asked.   
_“Obviously.”_  
“Yes.”  
“Who do you work for?” Rhys followed.  
                Liera pointed to the angry skull with an eyepatch on her chest, “Frontier Militia.”  Her finger migrated to the triangular marker with a stylized Prowler on it, “Special Recon Squadron.  Combat Intel Specialist serving the _M.C.S James MacAllan,_ Ninth Militia Fleet.”  
“What’s the one next to it?” Haylen pointed her chin to the words “M-COR” sprawled under it.   
“Marauder Corps Ribbon.  M-COR is a brigade within the SRS.”  
“And the one on your arm?” Danse asked.  
_“Man, they really like my patches.”_  
                The badge on her arm had wings that expanded on either side of the words “Top Gun.”  
“Top Gun is just…well, it’s hard to explain.” She thought about Cooper and how she wished his name was on the leaderboard with hers.  
“Try.” Rhys was hostile in his demand.  
_“Bite me.”_  
“To gain Pilot status, a soldier has to run the Pilot’s Gauntlet, a virtual reality simulation with three phases.  The first measures standard jump kit operations-” She tapped the small jet pack belted around her waist, “-and weaponry skills.  The second is a Titan evaluation to see how you handle the big guns.  And the third, well…”  
_“Why do they care?  They’re looking at me like I’m speaking a different language.”_  
“Go on.” Danse pressed.  
“It’s not exactly designed for anyone to pass.”  She toyed with a loose strand of hair, “You’re put up against three other Titans.  It’s supposed to be symbolic of the Militia’s unity.  Real poetic stuff.  But if you manage to beat them all, you’re granted Top Gun rank.”  She blushed , “My dad’s a Captain.  I was born into the Militia.  I had an unfair advantage.”  
_“Fuck, I miss them.”_  
“And your mission here, soldier?” Danse asked.  
                Liera swallowed.  The question blind sighted her.  It was one she’d been hoping to avoid for as long as possible.   
_“What am I supposed to say?  ‘Hey, just so you know, there’s an army of mercenaries on their way to-“_  
“Initiate?”  
                Panic tickled her neck.  She didn’t know how much to include, what they already knew, or how’d they react if they didn’t know anything, “I, uh…”  
_“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m blowing this-“_  
                Something Commander Briggs told her popped in her head, _“’The only difference between reconnaissance and espionage is that spies aren’t marked.’”_  
“Out with it.” Rhys barked.  
                Liera took a deep breath, “How much do you know about the IMC?”  
                The three Brotherhood members looked to each other, “Nothing.” Haylen answered.  
“Well…” Liera bit her lip, “We’ve pinpointed the origins of the Interstellar Manufacturing Corporation in the Commonwealth.  Our spies say they’re feeling a little homesick.”  She fidgeted with a loose pocket flap on her waist, “The Militia tried to make contact, but we couldn’t ping a signal strong enough.  EV and I were deployed to establish communications and get whatever the IMC needs from this place before they do.”  
“’Interstellar?’ What-“ Rhys began.  
                Danse silenced him with a wave, “What do you mean ‘come back?’  Where are they now?”  
_“A million questions.  Definitely recon.  I can see how I got on everyone’s nerves…”_  
“I don’t think we’re ready to have that talk.”  
“Please, Initiate.  The Brotherhood needs to know if there’s an imminent threat outside of the Institute.” Danse pleaded.  
“’The Institute?’”  
“You first.”  
                Liera twisted her dog tags, “We’re holding the IMC off at the outer rim of the Colonies-”  
“Cut the bullshit,” Rhys shouted, “Where are the Colonies? Stop dancing around the question.”  
_“I wouldn’t have to explain all this if you weren’t primitive as fuck, asshole.”_  
                She straightened herself, “We won the Battle of Demeter when we blew up their main refueling hub. That was two years ago, and they’re still pissed, especially now that they’re losing ground.  They don’t have enough resources to keep their ships drifting from Station to Station-“  
“What kind of nonsense are you spewing?“ Rhys cut her off.  
“Look, teaming up with another recon squad to further assess the Commonwealth seemed like a good idea, but if you don’t want us here, we’ll just stay out of the Brotherhood’s way and figure something else out.”  She grew tired of his insults.  
“Let her go.  We don’t need her."  
"If you don't stop..." Danse threatened him with an angry stare, "Initiate, please continue."   
                Liera's tolerance for Rhys was being tested, but Danse had been reasonable.  
                She'd continue to cooperate for the mission's sake, "The IMC needs a new planet to colonize.  Earth was thought to be desolate.  When those assholes found out that wasn’t the case, they put things into motion.”  Liera’s fist tightened, “You don’t want a bunch of homicidal maniacs showing up with Titans to take your home from you.  It’s what they’ve been doing to us for the last two-hundred years. That’s why the Militia dedicates everything it has to stopping them.”  
"We’re talking about different planets and outer-space civilizations.” Rhys cackled, “You're fucking crazy.”  
“You know what’s _really_ crazy?” Liera’s finger extended to the ceiling, “Out of all those stars and galaxies, you honestly believe you’re the only one hanging around the universe?  Do you know how statistically impossible that is?”  
"No, and I don't need to know the numbers because you're full of shit." Rhys spat.  
“That’s it.  You’re getting put on report when we get back.” Danse had enough of Rhys’s insubordination.  
"I'm sorry, sir, but she's lying throu-"  
                Haylen slapped the back of Rhys's head, “We didn’t even know Synths existed before the Broken Mask Incident. Is it really outside the realm of possibility that there might be other people out there?”  
                The Brotherhood soldiers went quiet.  Haylen and Rhys looked to Danse as if they were scared children seeking guidance from their father.  
“Let’s say you’re telling the truth,” Danse’s voice was hardly over a whisper, “How would contacting us help anything?  If this IMC you speak of has a mass of technology like yours, we’re going to be overrun regardless of any warning you have to give."  
                Her nerves were starting to get the better of her.  Liera’s breathing felt stifled, and sweat beaded the back of her neck.  She unlocked her helmet from her suit, lifting it from her shoulders.  
                She ran her fingers through her flattened hair, tucking it behind an ear, “I represent my superiors when I say that with your cooperation, you’ll have the Militia’s full support if, or when, the IMC arrives.”  
“And what if we don’t want to choose sides?” He asked.  
                She sighed, “I’m a pretty shit liar, so I’ll be upfront. The Militia _won’t_ let the IMC gain momentum.”  
“So, we don’t have a choice.” Danse’s face twisted.  
“Sure you do.  Either fight alongside the Miltia or get mowed down as the IMC tries to conquer the planet.”  
                The three Brotherhood members didn’t have much to say.   
                Paladin Danse stood in contemplation.  
“One more question, if you don’t mind.” He was calm.  
“One.  And then it’s my turn to ask questions.” Liera crossed her arms, her helmet dangling.  
                He eyed the implants on her head, “What are those?”  
“These, are…” Liera’s hand traced the pieces of technology she’d been integrated with, “Classified.”  
“That’s not good enough.”  
“Not good enough?  After everything I've told you?"  
                He placed his hands on his hips, “Fairly put, just as long as you’re not a Synth.”  
“I don’t know what a ‘Synth’ is.”  
                His scarred face frowned, “Technology has run amok, just like the bombs that brought the entire world to its knees and humanity to the brink of extinction...But from what you're telling us, we haven't even encountered our most daunting enemy.” He drifted off into a daze, “Anyway, Synths are robots that pass for humans.  Machines were never meant to make their own decisions.  They need to be controlled.”  
“Yeah, like your buddy out there.” Rhys said.  
                She laughed, shaking her head, “And here I thought we were making progress.”  
                Danse seemed confused before he realized what he’d implied, “That’s not-“  
“I get it.  Think of me what you will, but if you can’t even try to trust EV just because she’s a Titan, we’re done here.”  
                Leaving them wasn’t a threat she wanted to continue.  
                Military life, she knew. Soldiers, she knew.  
                It could work.  
                But not if they were going to continue berating EV.  She wasn’t going to waste her time, or put her best friend at risk.  
“Is that an ultimatum?” Danse seemed disheartened.  
“Paladin Danse, I don't mean to speak out of line, but why should we have to put our trust in a machine?  I don’t ‘trust’ Power Armor.  It’s a tool, a weapon.  There are hundreds like it.” Rhys argued.  
“Because she isn’t just a _machine_." Liera answered, "She’s my partner.  My _equal._ ”  
                Rhys laughed, “Yeah. Okay.”  
“EV, open the cockpit.” She walked across the room.  
_“Please stop me.”_  
“Wait,” Danse followed, “What are you doi-“  
_“Good Paladin.”_  
“What does it look like I’m doing?”  
                He caught the nook of her elbow, “Will you just listen for a second?”  
“What?” She hissed.  
“I’ll try.  We’ll _all_ try.” Danse glared at Rhys.  
                He was relieved to find Liera’s perse eyes settling, “You’ve given us no reason not to.  And neither has the Titan.”  
                Liera looked to the door, “EV, stand down. Everything’s alright.”  
                The Brotherhood of Steel members looked at her confused.  
“She was ready to punch a hole in the ceiling.” Liera shrugged, “Like I said.  Partner.”  
                Danse chuckled, dropping his hold on her, “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re…both of you, are on our side.”  
“Does that mean we get to stay?” She asked eagerly.  
“If you can deal with Rhys’s smart mouth, absolutely.”  
“You'd be the first.” Haylen snickered.  
                Rhys withheld his commentary.  
“I can take him.” Liera grinned, “Looks like we’re stuck together, pal.”  
“Oh, so now we're supposed to be best buddies?” He glowered, “Well guess what, I'm not interested in making friends.  You're hired help, and that's all there is to it.”   
“Does Paladin Danse call all the hired help ‘Initiate?’” Liera asked.  
                Haylen did her best to diffuse them, “No, he doesn’t.  Which means you’re on your way to becoming one of us, and you should be treated as such. That also means Knight Rhys is now your superior, unfortunately.”  
“Head down.  Mouth shut.  Got it?" He told her.  
                Liera looked to the floor, remaining silent.  
“Initiate?” Rhys prodded.  
                She didn’t answer him.  
“I asked you a question.  Do you understand?”  
                Liera looked up, “Oh, sorry.  I was keeping my mouth shut, head down. Those things. Yeah, I got it.”  
                His lips curled.   
“Alright, team.  We’ve had a lot of intel thrown at us and this morning’s ambush was an obvious setback.  It’s a five-hour hike to the Boston Airport, and we’re already approaching 17:00. Let’s take another night of rest to wrap our heads around everything.  We’ll hit the road at daybreak.” Danse instructed.   
                Liera yawned, “It’s 17:00 already?”  
“Yes. Is there a problem?” He asked.  
“It’s just…Time zone difference.  No big deal.” Liera shook her head, “I’m gonna go to bed.  I’ve been up for two days with six hours of sleep.  According to EV, that’s bad for my health.”  
                Danse looked to her with concern, “When was the last time you ate?”  
“This morning, after I woke up.” Her stomach growled to remind her it needed food, “I’ll be alright.  I have a supply in the cockpit.”  
“You can join us in here, if you’d like.” Haylen offered.  
                As much as Liera wanted to bolt from the police station and snuggle up in her cockpit, she knew this was as close to an olive branch as she was going to get...and she’d be stupid to refuse it.  
“Sounds good.” She smiled nervously.  
                Rhys slid an oil lamp in the middle of the common area, lighting it while Haylen went off to get food ready.  Danse followed to help her, kneeling to Rhys as he passed him, "You better get that temper of yours in check.  Are we clear?"   
"Yes, Paladin..."  
 "Good." Danse walked away from them.   
                Liera rocked on her heels, unsure what to do with herself in the Knight’s company.  
“You gonna sit down or what?” Rhys grunted as he separated himself from the wall.  
                Her brows raised in surprise, “Yeah, sorry.” She sat across from him, placing her helmet at her side.  
“For what?”  
“Being socially awkward.” Her lips creased.  
“Got that right.” He shrugged his jumpsuit off of his arms, a white t-shirt being revealed.   
                She could see his bandages pressing the fabric from below.  
“So, what happened to you?” She asked.  
                He looked at her with disdain, but his demeanor shifted before he answered, “Ghoul got me.  Their claws cut pretty deep.”  
                Liera’s brow pinched, “Are you gonna be okay to travel?”  
“Don’t pretend to care.  I don’t need your sympathy.”  
“I’m not pretending.” She leaned an elbow on her knee, her legs crossed underneath her, “Why do you hate me so much?”  
“I don’t hate you.  My problem is I can’t figure you out.” He shifted, his jaw tightening as his side ached, “You come from out of the blue, take down a few Ferals, and suddenly you're all buddy-buddy with Paladin Danse.”  
                She snickered, “I’m not trying to suck up to him, and everything I told you was true.  What more is there to figure out?”  
“I don't know if you're serious about being a part of the Brotherhood, or if you're just biding your time until you find whatever it is you’re looking for.  That bothers me.”  
                Haylen and Danse returned with dinner.  Liera thanked them as she was handed what looked like a prehistoric package, a piece of mutfruit, and a can of purified water.  
_“The Brotherhood is a means to an end.  I’m a Militia Pilot.  I worked hard for that title, and I’m keeping it.”_  
                The four of them ate in silence.  
“I’m sorry, Paladin Danse.” Rhys chewed quietly.  
                He didn’t respond.   
“Sir?” Rhys was anxious.

…

  
  
                Danse was drained by a day full of his authority being undermined. He wanted to shred Rhys for not following orders in front the same Initiate who witnessed him get throttled by his commanding officer.  But one look at the man’s anguished face, and he couldn’t.  
“We’ve all been through a lot this last week.  Lost a few good soldiers.  And now, we have a new issue that we need to address.”  He was still reeling from the conversation with Liera, “But I don’t need your apologies, or your excuses, Knight.  I need you to be the model soldier you’ve been since we started our mission.”  
                Rhys’s throat constricted, “Yes, sir.”  
“And that means cooperating with the Initiate.”  
                Liera shifted uncomfortably next to him.  He caught himself sneaking an admiring glance at her.  
                She had amethyst eyes that were inlaid in bronze flesh.  A beauty mark dotted her cheek under her left eye, and a scar split the eyebrow above it.  The left half of her head was shaved, bearing silver half-moon shaped implants.  The other side had hair dangling the length of her chin, black in color.  
                She was captivating.  
_“Get ahold of yourself, soldier.”_  
“I understand.” Rhys whispered.  
                The four finished their meal as the flames in the lantern crackled within the building that sheltered them.  
“How do you think Elder Maxson is going to handle everything?” Liera asked.  
                The question he’d been avoiding.  He wasn’t ready to have that conversation with her.  It might scare her off, and Gladius needed her help.  
“Explaining EV will be our biggest obstacle.” Danse answered honestly.  
                He was shocked to hear Liera fighting off a laugh, “Is that a…pun?”  
                Haylen let a joyous sound escape her, and Liera gave a wide smile in return.  
“No, I meant the Titan’s sentient being.  I’m concerned he’ll treat it… _her_ like a Synth.” He said.  
                Haylen shook her head, “I don’t think we’re at risk for Titans replacing humans.  They aren’t exactly camouflaged.”    
“Does that make it alright for it to have an engineered soul?” Rhys asked.  
                Liera shot an angry look to him.  
“I’m not being a smartass.” He assured, “I just want to know what our resident egghead thinks.”   
                Hayen poked at her empty ration container, “I think if the Militia has engineered artificial intelligence without letting it run rampant, they must have some sort of self-control, unlike the Institute.” Haylen nodded to Liera, “Like she said, it’s a partnership.  Think about it.”  
                Rhys snickered, “Has the Railroad reviewed your application yet?”  
“Shut up.” She punched his arm.  
“Militia Titans aren’t totally independent.” Liera explained, “They’re programmed with three protocols.  Protocol one: Link to Pilot.  Protocol two: Uphold the mission.  Protocol three: Protect the Pilot.  Anything that would jeopardize those is immediately dismissed.”  
“That could be helpful.” Danse rubbed his chin.  
“EV can’t replace her own battery.  She requires daily upkeep.” Liera sighed, “She’s still mechanical in nature.”  
“That’s a good angle.  Arthur would be more understanding if we presented her as a recovered piece of tech rather than…well, a Titan.” He felt a bit more confident.  
“And the rest of it?” Liera pressed, “How is he going to respond to the big news?”  
_“He’s probably going to hold a gun to your head and order your Titan to be melted down.”_  
“He’ll see reason and address the threat as necessary.” Danse looked to Rhys and Haylen, who seemed taken aback by his words, “And he’ll appreciate your honesty, as we all do.”  
“Yeah, well…orders are orders.” She hugged her knees, resting her chin on them.  
                She had a small frame, almost a foot shorter than himself. Still, she had to be strong to carry around the gear that stuck to every inch of her body.   
_“I wonder what Pilot training is like?  Or what kind of combat she’s seen?”_  
                Danse found himself infatuated.  She was interesting, to say the least.  
“This is just as much a culture shock for me, ya know.” Liera whispered.  
“Debatable.” Rhys yawned.  
                The others repeated the tired motion.  
“Let’s get some sleep.  We’ve got a long day tomorrow.” Danse turned the nob on the lantern, muting its fire.  
“Sounds good to me.” Haylen stretched, “I’ll sure sleep a Hell of a lot better knowing EV is watching over us.”  
“She’s good for that.” Liera smiled, standing up, “I’m gonna sleep in the cockpit, if you don’t mind.”  
                Danse looked to her, “We have an extra sleeping bag, Initiate.”  
“The recliner is pretty comfortable,” She said, “And I just…kinda need some time to myself.  I’m sure you can all relate.”  
_“Please don’t leave us to deal with the Airport by ourselves.”_  
“Affirmative, soldier.  I’ll brief you in the morning.” He answered.  
“Alright.” She turned for the door, helmet in hand, “Night.”  
“Good night!” Haylen answered, taking her hat off and scratching her head.  
_“And what a Hell of a night it’s been.”_

…

                Liera marched through the half-baked Ghoul bodies.  Her heart melted at the opened cockpit waiting for her. She stepped onto EV’s helping hand, being lifted into her comfortable chair, “That was rough.”  
                Her mask began to crack.    
“It did seem like a difficult conversation to navigate.” EV agreed.  
                Liera rested her helmet and guns on the dashboard, “Did you get all that?”  
“Yes, Pilot.”  
“Let me see.”  
                The holographic display opened a wheel-selection tool with various video and audio surveillance, “Nice work.  Encrypt the files and throw them in the Archive.”  
                She slid her boots off and detached her jump kit, grenades, and tools from her waist.  She lifted her vest over her head, working on her elbow, shoulder, and knee guards next.  
“Good night EV.” She said, placing a mask attached to EV over her mouth, reclining the chair.   
“Good night, Pilot.” EV answered, administering a small dose of sleeping gas, “Pleasant dreams.”  
                Liera drifted off into a peaceful sleep, taking the time to rest while she could.


	7. The Lost Patrol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"They're going to call us marauders...I'm sorry. I should've been here._  
>  _I promised you I'd never get back into one of those damn machines again. If you're looking down, I hope you understand._  
>  _You said it would be tough to start over, but I didn't listen. You said more would follow, and I thought they'd leave us alone._  
>  _I was wrong._  
>  _We left everything behind. Hell, getting here was just the beginning._  
>  _But there's no turning back. This is our land..._  
>  _This...is our land._  
>  _And I will fight for it._  
>  _I don't know if there's any...'honor,' left on the Frontier. I don't know if there ever was._  
>  _I just know..._  
>  _I'm gonna' make them pay._  
>  -[James MacAllan Journal Entry](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RobzkEAOnOY&list=PL2kQFPOHFNJKgcY9hElbB51dLIMqEa_Mz&index=5)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _"James MacAllan Journal Entry"_ linked in summary text.  
>   
>  ** _Archive Quick Reference Guide_**  
>   
>  **Spectres:** They are produced by Hammond Robotics and are highly upgraded and weaponized robot soldiers.  
>  **Spyglass:** Spyglass units handle logistics, navigation, deployment, and communication between all IMC forces on the Frontier.  
>  **Leviathan:** Leviathans are gargantuan, lurching, hulking creatures, many stories tall. They inhabit their namesake planet, Leviathan.  
>  Bish, Graves, Blisk, and MacAllan entries in ["The Archive."](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10296845/chapters/22779869)

* * *

* * *

 

                anse stared at EV for fifteen minutes before finding the strength to approach her.  
                The rest of the squad had woken up and begun to pack.  When they hadn’t heard from Liera, he took it upon himself to check on her.  
“Initiate?” His knocked on the cockpit.  
“Please stand back.” EV said.  
                He did, and EV lifted the doors.  
                Liera was still asleep, wearing what looked to be a respirator.  
                On either side of her were metallic brackets shaped like arms with triggers and buttons lining the handles.  Below her were two foot holsters occupied by an empty pair of boots.  
“Please remove the nebulizer from Pilot Lastimosa.” EV requested.  
                He paused, “You want me to do what?”  
“Please remove the nebulizer from Pilot Lastimosa.” She repeated.  
                Danse hesitated. If he was going to remove the mask from her face, he’d have to step into the Titan.  
“Can’t you just…Wake her up?” He asked.  
“Medical unit is low on reserves.  To conserve energy, please manually remove the nebulizer from Pilot Lastimosa.  Would you prefer a different language?”  
“No.” He answered hotly, “I understand.”  
                Danse studied the door in front him.  It was a panel covered in lenses, each one of them labeled “Field of View.” The markers underneath ranged from one to twelve.  
_“Is that how she sees out of this thing?”_  
                He gripped the arm of the chair, pulling himself into the hoard of complex technology that was EV’s bowels. He almost hit his head on one of the levers that hung above him, a red one catching his attention.  The faded letters read, “Eject.”  
_“I wonder if she’s ever had to pull it.”_  
                Refocusing on his task, he placed his hand on the nebulizer between its nozzles, pulling it under her lips.  He was relieved to find a shallow breath pushing from her nose.

…

 _Liera clamped her arm as she ran, trying to lessen the red trail snaking behind her.  
“Can’t die yet.  Need to buy…Sarah…time...”  
                Bullets flew passed her head, remedying her fading consciousness.  
                Her chest heaved as her legs pushed her forward.  She wanted to turn around and fire back at the Spectres that hunted her.  
“Pilots, all towers are down, I repeat, all towers are down.  Watch out for incoming wildlife- they won’t play favorites between you and the IMC.”  Bish said through her helmet.  
                She caught a glimpse of a Leviathan stampeding over the IMC’s labs as she sprinted passed a window in the hallway.  
“Great work, people.” James broadcasted over the Militia channel, “We’ll head to Demeter within the hour.  It’s time for the main event.  MacAllan out.”  
                Liera charged through a door, her shoulder slamming against the shined metal.  EV opened the cockpit below, “Pilot, you have to jump.”  
                She froze on IMC-branded rooftop.  
“Pilot Lastimosa, hostiles closing in.”  
                She leapt from the railing as another bullet tore through her.  
  
                _ Liera inhaled sharply, gripping her shoulder.  
Paladin Danse hovered overhead.  
                She shuffled backwards, “What are you-“  
“Your nebulizer.” He said, “Your Titan asked me to wake you up.  Something about the medical unit running low on power.”  
                She noticed the mask dangling around her neck, “Oh…I…”  
                He pulled away from her, the scent of oil and testosterone still lingering.  
                Something less pleasant tickled her throat.  
“Are you alright?” Danse asked.  
“Yeah, I’m,” She coughed, “I’m fine.”  
“Pilot, vital diagnostics indicate abnormal blood radiation levels.  Enabling air filter.”  
                EV closed the cockpit.  The filter released an electronic hum as it powered on.  
“I take it nuclear radiation isn’t as prominent in your native atmosphere.” Danse observed, standing only a few feet from EV’s ocular hub.  
“No, not really.” Liera answered through her speaker.  
“Scribe Haylen has a stock of Rad-X.  I’ll see to it that you’re administered the proper dosage.” He said.  
“Rad-what?”  
“It’s a medication that treats radiation poisoning.  Until you become acclimated to your new environment, I’d recommend limiting your exposure as much as possible.” He turned his back to them, “Get yourself together.  We’ll meet you out here when we’re ready.”  
“Sounds good...” She answered.  
                Liera slipped her boots up to her calf and pulled the laces, watching him retreat through the doors of the police station.  
Her heart raced in her chest, _“Maybe I should’ve taken my psych eval more seriously…”_

…

  
                Recon Squad Gladius had been on the road for two hours.  They’d passed fresh bodies strung by their necks, and old ones hanging outside of rusted vehicles.  Cambridge was decorated in death.  
                Even the birdsong seemed mutated.  
                Liera had seen cities collapse on themselves because of the IMC’s interference, but nothing like this.  It made her sick to think that they might have been involved in the bombings of the Commonwealth, followed by a conscious decision to continue their bad habits in the Colonies.  
                As if their actions weren’t bad enough, it somehow made it worse.  
                The squad soon learned that traveling with a Titan made them a target.  They’d had been ambushed by Raiders, Ghouls, and a small troop of mercenaries that called themselves the ‘Gunners,’ according to Paladin Danse.  
                Everyone wanted a piece of EV, and there was plenty of her to go around.  
                However, cleansing the area of “filth” didn’t leave a lot of time for rest, and that was something Haylen and Rhys needed desperately.  
“Sniper up top.” Liera’s called out as her targeting system locked on.  
                The team below ducked as EV’s plasma cannon disposed of their assailant.  
“Coward couldn't even face us on the field of battle.” Danse looked up at the smoldering chunk of building, his voice distorted through his Power Armor.  
“So much for ‘clean and quiet.’” Haylen sipped from her canteen.  
“Sorry.  Titans weren’t built to be subtle.” Liera smirked in her cockpit.  
“There's no reason to be subtle when you have _that_ in your arsenal.”  Danse chuckled, “See anything else up there?”  
“Negative. All clear.” She answered.  
                They seized the opportunity to cross a bridge in open space, glad to be leaving Cambridge behind them.  Liera noticed a pattern of bent telephone poles, flattened debris, and ripped telephone wires through the rear camera.  EV had blazed a path through the city’s infrastructure.  
_“Good thing no one’s here to report property damage.  Briggs would have a big check to write.”_  
“We’ll stop here and rest for a bit.” Danse ordered.  
                EV and Liera continued to scan for hostiles, “Perfect time to fill us in on this ‘Behemoth.’”  
“It’s mean, green, and the size of EV.” Haylen sat at the base of a tree.  
“Requesting information on combat tactics and known weaknesses.” EV said.  
“Up-close and personal.  Might throw something explosive at you when you try to run.” Rhys chewed on a piece of mutfruit next to Haylen, “Other than that, we don’t know what they’re capable of.  We called the retreat after we lost someone.”  
                Haylen sighed, “We’ve lost four good men to this godforsaken wasteland.”  
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Liera consoled.  
                Danse utilized the downtime for a rally, “Don't be. Everyone who signs up for a recon mission knows what to expect.  Our lives depend on our training, and on each other.  Nothing else.”  He looked to the trail before them, “And despite our setbacks, I don’t intend to give up and head home…or end up missing like Recon Squad Artemis.”  
                Rhys slammed his fist to his chest in a salute.  
“Someone’s feeling better.” Haylen smirked.  
“Those Ferals only scratched me.”  Rhys said, “I’ll be fine.”  
“Oh yeah? Is that why you were whining like a baby when I patched you up?”  
“You must have me confused with someone else.” He snickered.  
“Unless the Institute replaced you with a Synth overnight, I’m pretty sure it was you.” She laughed.  
                Liera sighed, “Still don’t know who this ‘Institute’ is…”  
“They're a group of scientists who went underground when the Great War started.” Danse explained, “Spent the last few decades littering the Commonwealth with their technological nightmares.  It's unacceptable.”  
“Why would they want to replace humans with their Synths?” She asked.  
“Hostile takeover.” Rhys growled, “They’d see the New World run by machines- a world that will never come to pass if the Brotherhood has anything to say about it.  If they want to check the Commonwealth, _we’ll_ be the balance.”  
“Well put, Knight.” Danse nodded.  
_“I hope you have the same vigor when the IMC shows up…”_  
                A pulse of gunfire and shouting beat from the heart of Cambridge.  
                Danse turned to the trail leading farther away from the city, “Let’s get moving.”  
                The team continued towards south Boston.

…

                Another hour passed.  The barren twigs of the forest rolled like an ocean of bones.  An occasional creak of wind slipped through EV’s joints, muffling Liera’s external audio.  
                Something twinkled high above the skeletal wilds.  
“EV, check that out.” She said.  
“<<TERRAIN ANALYSIS COMMENCING>>  
Scanning…”  
                EV’s words typed in front of her, “<<VIABLE SATELLITE ARRAY NEARBY>>”  
_“An array?  Out here?”_  
“Brotherhood of Steel Distress Pulser detected.” EV said through her speaker.  
                The team halted.  
“What’s that?” Rhys asked.  
“A distress pulser similar to Scribe Haylen’s detected in the immediate vicinity.” EV pointed, “The signal is coming from that satellite array.  Enclosed device detected. Transmitting decrypted data:”  
“This is Farris,” An exasperated man’s voice broadcasted from the cockpit, “It's been…two hours since the Paladin left. My leg...I can't stanch the bleeding. Bullet must've hit an artery. Brandis...if you get this...I hope you make it back to Astlin in time. There was nothing you could do for me. Get to the bunker up north. You'll survive. That's all that…matters...” _  
_ Danse’s helmet twisted towards the destination in question, “They must have come to the satellite array for the comm system. Probably trying to send word back to the Prydwen…They’ve been presumed dead for years…” His voice was coarse, “Shortly after they arrived, we lost contact with them and they haven't been heard from since…Well, until now.”  
“The Brotherhood never sent a rescue team?” Liera asked.  
“We don’t have the resources or the manpower to conduct a rescue mission of that scale. If a patrol is lost, all we can do is honor those who gave their lives in the line of duty.” He shifted, “But if they’re nearby, we have a responsibility to find out what happened to them.”  
“Well, we’ve located the signal,” Haylen said, “Now we just need to survey the area and establish a search pattern.”  
“We might not need to.  The tape mentioned a bunker. If I’m correct, it was part of my original mission brief.”  Dance left the trail and headed north, “Let’s check it out.”  
“Paladin Danse, the satellite array may be our only means of establishing communications with the Frontier Militia.” EV said.  
“Then we’ll hit it on our way back.” Danse marched on, “If Paladin Brandis is still alive, we need to extract him immediately.”  
                Liera sighed, “Right...”

…

  
                Danse was surprisingly agile off the beaten path.  Liera hadn’t expected such a high level of mobility from his suit of armor.  
_“He’s like a cat in that thing.”_ She remembered her pet she’d left at home, _“I don’t think Dusty would like it here very much.”  
_ “Knight Astlin…” He whispered, “She was in my company, _years_ ago.  Best marksman I ever saw.” He took a deep breath, “What a loss.” _  
_ “And Scribe Faris.  He was wounded, couldn’t walk.” Haylen seemed disturbed, “Brandis always was a survivor, but to just leave a Scribe alone like that…”  
“Don’t worry, Haylen.  We’d never leave you behind.” Rhys winked at her.  
                She blushed.  
“They all wound up alone, and at least two of them got killed…Damn it.” Danse scolded.  
“He broke the first rule of small-group tactics.”  Rhys’s hands tightened around his rifle, “Stick together. _Always_ stick together.” _  
_                 There was an eerie silence that followed until EV’s alert chimed, “Land minds detected.”  
                The three Brotherhood militants below paused.  
“Definitely Brandis.  He loves blowing shit up.” Rhys smirked.  
“Pilot, my chassis is too large to safely navigate through them. Causing an explosion could compromise the structural integrity of any underground facility. I recommend that you embark.”  
_“Goddamn it.  I don’t want to go out there again.”_  
                EV leaned over, opening the cockpit, “Tagging locations on your HUD. Proceed with caution.”  
                She climbed out, rifle in hand, “Alright, Paladin Danse.  Point the way and I’ll lead you around the mines.”  
“Outstanding. Scribe Haylen, Knight Rhys, watch our six.  EV, contact Initiate Lastimosa should you engage.”  Danse ordered.  
_“’Initiate Lastimosa.’  That’s gotta’ nice ring to it.”_  
“Request confirmed.” EV answered.  
                Danse pointed towards a stone pillar with an unfamiliar symbol spray-painted on it, “That’s our marker.”  
“Alright. Stay close.” Liera instructed.  
“Understood.  I’ll tell you when we’re close to the entrance.”  
                Liera strategically worked her way through the hazardous clearing.  There were at least a dozen explosive traps waiting for them.  
                It was just her and Danse, now.  
“So,” She said, “How worried should I _really_ be about Elder Maxson?”  
“As I said before- he’ll appreciate your honesty.”  
“The look on the others’ face when you said that wasn’t very hope-inspiring.” She admitted.  
_“I’m recon too, buddy.”_  
“Elder Maxson is a brilliant tactician, a formidable warrior, and possesses an idealistic vision for the future of the Brotherhood.  He single-handedly re-prioritized us from the ground up, and put us back on the path to glory.”  Danse grunted, shaking something snagged from his armored foot, “He believes that, in order to keep the Brotherhood strong, we have to bond as Brothers and Sisters. That being said, he’s understandably particular when it comes to new recruits.”  
“’Particular.’  Got it.”  
“If you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to fear.” Danse warned, “And as your sponsor, it will be my duty to travel with you throughout the Commonwealth to ensure that our ideals are being upheld.”  
“You’re my…what?” She asked.  
“I recruited you into the Brotherhood.  Under Maxson’s guidelines, that makes me responsible for you, _and_ your actions.”  He huffed, “Not to put too fine a point on it, but if you screw up...We go down together.”  
“No pressure.” She grunted.  
“You _should_ feel pressured…” Danse sighed, “I sincerely hope you appreciate how much of a chance I’m taking bringing you into the fold so quickly.”  
                She smirked, “Likewise.”  
                He thought for a moment.  
“A fair assessment.  Discussing your mission also put you at risk, no doubt.”  He lowered his voice, “This is the holdout site.  Stay vigilant.”  
                Liera lost sight of EV through the dead forest.  It made her nervous.  
                She heard something to her left, aimed at the source, and waited for EV’s sonar locks to find it.  
                A crouching man was outlined in orange behind the base of a tree.  
                Liera’s raised her left fist, the hand signal for, “freeze.”  Danse halted.  
                She lowered her hand towards the ground, and they crouched in unison.  
_“I haven’t used close quarter combat signals in four years…Bear with me, Danse.”  
_                 She looked down her sights, aiming her rifle at the highlighted man.  Her arm extended parallel to her barrel, pointing at the tree with her thumb facing down.  Turning her head, she cupped her eye and held up one finger. Her left hand formed an “O,” sliding up and down.  
_“Suspect sighted in that direction.  One, armed with a shotgun.”_  
                He gave her a thumbs up, pointed at himself, pretended to pat his head, and pointed at her.  
_“Got it. I’ll cover you.”_  
                Liera kept herself low as her active cloaking device initiated.  She wound through the trees, flanking the man who kept trying to peak around the trunk of his cover.  
                She pressed her Hemlok to his skull, “Identify yourself.”  
                The black barrels of his shotgun turned swiftly.  
                She slung her rifle as her knuckles came down on his forearm just above his wrist.  Using the momentum to her advantage, she gripped the gun, pulling it from the man’s grasp.  
                Liera pumped the shotgun at him, “Back up.”  
                The man laced his fingers behind his head, walking three paces backwards.  He had white patches of hair above a wild beard.  He wore a dingy jumpsuit and a brown, bulky contraption on his wrist.  
                Liera scanned for any more land mines, “All clear.”  
“Who are you? Who sent you? How’d you get here?” The man asked her.  
“I asked you, first.” She answered coldly.  
“Paladin Brandis?” Danse asked as he approached them, “It’s me, Danse.”  
“Saul…Johnfield…Danse?”  
                He sighed, “Yep.  That’s me.”  
“No...no, no, no, that can't be. Why...Why are you here?” Brandis panicked.  
“I was dispatched to the Commonwealth on a recon mission, Paladin. Just like you.” Danse remained calm.  
“You…found me? How?” Brandis shuddered, “I've...I've been alone. For so long...”  
“We found Farris’s distress beacon.  It led us here.” He looked at Liera, “Lower your weapon, soldier.”  
                She did as she was told.  
                Brandis’s arms relaxed, his hands falling to his side, “I...I tried to go back for them. There was nothing I could do, not alone. But...I had hoped…”  He twitched, looking around, “Please, come. Come inside.  It’s not safe to talk here.  They’re…everywhere.  Listening. Waiting.” He hustled back to the bunker, holding the door open for them.  
“You turned _invisible._ ” Danse mumbled as they followed Brandis, “How did you expect me to watch your back?”  
“I didn’t.” She handed him Brandis’s shotgun to prove a point.  
“I don’t care how self-sufficient you are.” He scolded, “No more flying solo. It’s reckless.”  
“Fine. Sorry.” She rolled her eyes behind her helmet.  
“I don’t want your apologies.  I want your compliance.”  
_“Not my fault you can’t keep up…”_  
                The two continued inside, following Brandis down a flight of steps.  
                The bunker’s walls were funneled to form a choke point, and reinforced with Brotherhood of Steel-branded metal.  There were numerous shelves and desks, all cluttered with an assortment of rusted items.  
“Object of interest.” EV wrote across the screen.  
                Something became highlighted on Liera’s heads-up display.  
“I've collected a lot over the years.”  Brandis explained, “Technology. Odds and ends. If you see anything you want, take it.”  
“Where did you find a Pipboy?” Danse asked, eyeing up the brown cuff on Brandis’s arm.    
“It was on a Raider.  Was, a Raider. Now, dead.”  
                Liera slinked over to investigate a crate tucked in a corner. She retrieved a broken hard drive, blowing away the layer of dust that clung to it.  
“Come back with us.  You’re still a member of the Brotherhood, Paladin.” Danse reasoned.  
                She stayed out of the conversation and kept her back turned to them.  Her data knife’s sensor introduced itself to the dingy vessel in her hands.  
“What? No, no, I couldn't. Not after everything that's happened.” Brandis seemed on the verge of insanity, “I... can't. It's been too long. I... I wouldn't be of any use.”  
“That’s not true.  No one knows the Commonwealth better than you.  We need your help.” Danse removed his helmet, his voice fading into normalcy, “It’s time you reported in.”  
                Brandis’s feeble arms shook from his weight as he lowered himself onto a chair, “I'm...I'm not myself. Would they even take me?”  
“You’d be placed under observation until you’re fit for duty.” Danse shifted in his Power Armor, “The Brotherhood will honor the memory of your team.  Shouldn’t you be the one to tell their story?”  
“HMD-ENGR” blinked on the data knife’s LED screen.  
“Transmission received.” EV wrote, “Code verified: Hammond Engineering.  Unusual time signature detected.  Decrypting…”  
_“No, it can’t be…or could it? Have I been asking the wrong damn question this entire time?”  
                _ A voiced screeched through her speaker.  A man’s voice filled the room, _“_ After many decades of setbacks, scientists have discovered a way to fold space and time.”  
                The grainy recording shifted to a woman who sounded like a news anchor, “Deep space explorers have discovered a dense zone of habitable planets, and everyone’s calling it a new Frontier.” She paused, “Dr. Hammond, now, as I understand it, the IMC’s refueling facility here at Demeter is vital for travel between the core and the Frontier.”  
                A voice crackled and waned, the previous man returning, “This is journalist Williams, reporting.  Decades-long tensions exploding into all-out war on the Frontier today.  The group calling themselves ‘The Militia’ have conducted numerous raids on IMC garrisons.”  
                Liera’s heart skipped.  
“Vice Admiral Graves,” a female news anchor, different than the first one, began, “You and Captain MacAllan have a long history of successful operations against the Militia.  What do you think made him turn?  Why did MacAllan betray you?”  
_"I...I remember hearing this.  I was 6, I think..."_  
                White noise deafened them before her voice returned with clarity, “Short on fuel and supplies, and I quote, ‘The First Milita Fleet is unlikely to survive their next encounter with the IMC battle-group in pursuit.’”  
                A harsh man’s voice cut through the broadcast, “All personnel, this is Vice Admiral Graves.  We have a rare opportunity to destroy an entire Militia fleet.  We know these terrorists are almost out of fuel.  The desperation _will_ make them unpredictable.”  
_“It’s…it’s a briefing, back when Admiral Graves was IMC…”  
_ “Do _not_ underestimate them. They cannot run far, and they will most likely hit a fueling facility in the next few hours.  Spyglass will fill you in.”  
                She retracted her visor, looking up to Danse, “The Fracture refueling raid…they knew we were coming…I was there, Ryan had-”  
“Initiate, what are we listening to, exactly?” He interrupted.  
                Liera raised her hand, silencing him as a robotic male began to speak, “Titan Pilots, you will be assigned to dropships at all potential targets at the Yuma system. A heavy rotation will be maintained at all sites.  At the first sign of Militia forces, you will deploy to the ground and ensure the air-defense turrets remain online.”  
                Vice Admiral Graves regained their attention, “You are cleared ‘Weapons-Freed’ for this operation.  Stay vigilant.  Graves out.”  
“Piecing together fragmented data.”  EV announced.  
“In space, fuel is life, and the Militia fleet is running low.” The engines of a dropship muffled Graves as he addressed the field troops, “Only seven planets in the Yuma system can replenish a fleet of that size.  Victor is one of them. We’ve set up turrets like this one, just in case the Militia decides to pay this site a visit.”  
                 Rocket-propelled stabilizers fired as the ship began to lower.  Liera was familiar with the sound.  
“Bravo, give me a sitrep.” Graves ordered.  
“Turret online and operational, sir.” An operator responded through the IMC channel, “Vice Admiral Graves, Zulu Three shows multiple jump signatures three clicks out.”  
“Blisk,’ Graves commanded, “Tell Riggs to get his squad on the deck- Now!”  
_“Fucking Blisk…I’ll rip your throat out, one day…”  
                _ More ships sored by, rendering Graves inaudible. _  
_ “Sir, our forces have assembled at rally point Alpha.” Blisk answered.  
“Pilots,” Graves continued, “Today, you have a chance to establish peace on the Frontier.  Make it count!”  
“Repairing corrupted files.” EV said.  
“All units, be advised.  The turrets are online for Alpha, and the Redeye’s taking major damage.” Blisk warned through the guns firing in the background, “Pilot, there’s a hardpoint in that building.  Get in there, and patch me in.”  
“Yes, sir!” A man responded.  
_“Is this…A Pilot’s personal log…”_  
“Fast-forwarding to stabilized segment.” EV interrupted.  
“Hmph, we didn’t even kill half their fleet.  Fifty-four ships destroyed.  That’s it.” Blisk seemed displeased.  
“How many of those ships were civilian?” Graves asked.  
“Today’s civilians are tomorrow’s Militia, sir.  What did you want me to do, wait?” Blisk sneered.  
“Start a search.  I want that fleet found.  Graves out.”  
“Transmission: Concluded.  Playing back personal voice recording.” EV said.  
“MacAllan…it’s been fifteen years since you left us.  I’m sticking my neck out giving you these dead drops, but…I had my chance to fight on the right side of history.  Should’a left with you on the Odyssey.  Now, all I can do is hold you to your promise.” The man’s recorder clicked, and EV’s feed went quiet.  
                She stood, “Paladin Brandis.  This hard drive- where did you find it?”  
                His gazed followed her, “On the back…What color tape?”  
                Liera flipped the item over, “Blue.”  
“In the ruins…the Commonwealth Institute of Technology.” He coughed, “We found it after we cleared the place of…Synths.”  
“It’s registered under ‘Hammond Engineering.’  Do you either of you know who they are?” She begged, “Please, I promise I’ll explain later.  This is important.”  
                Danse grumbled, “Hammond Engineering was an umbrella over privately owned corporations.  They were more interested in turning a profit than helping mankind. They put the last nail in the coffin with their environmental irresponsibility.  The Brotherhood deems them accountable for putting the gears of the Great War into motion.”  
“Vault-Tec, Mass Fusion, RobCo Industries, ArcJet Systems, Poseidon Energy…” Brandis rattled on, “If only we knew then, what we know now…”  
“What did each of those corporations do?”  She searched Danse for any sign of understanding.    
“Vault-Tec developed fallout shelters.  Mass Fusion led the industry in nuclear fusion technology.  RobCo built war machines.  ArcJet studied space technology, and Poseidon Energy had deep pockets in mining and oil refinement.” His brows pinched, “What does any of this have to do with that recording?”  
                Liera traced the engraved logo with her thumb, “The founder of the IMC was Doctor Hammond, former CEO of Hammond Engineering.  EV recognizes this motherboard as at _least_ a hundred and fifty years old, but...Part of these recordings were from only a few years ago.” She studied the relic, shaking her head, “I…I was _there_ …We all were…”  
_“Drained us and left us to die.  Bastards.”_  
“Danse…” She looked up to him, “We have to get that satellite array back online.  I have to tell Commander Briggs about this.  Something’s off.”  
“The Revere Satellite Array?” Brandis asked, “That’s…that’s where…” He cupped his face in his hands, “The Brotherhood won’t take me back, Danse.  Not after everything I’ve done.”  
                Liera turned her attention to Brandis, “Your commanding officer sent you here with no knowledge of what you’d encounter.  Previous training isn’t easily applied in that situation, and adapting is even harder.  Believe me, I know…” She continued, “If Elder Maxson is half the man Paladin Danse claims he is, he’ll understand.”  
_“Commander Briggs would…”  
_                 That gave Brandis pause.  His eyes were forlorn, “Unless I go back, their sacrifices...everything we went through...it'll be forgotten. I...I can't let that happen.”  
_"I need you to get your shit together so I can leave, old man.”_  
“We need to restore the satellite array and secure the Boston Airport as per orders from Elder Maxson. Will you help us, Paladin?” She asked.  
                Brandis looked to Danse, “You’ve a good Initiate under your wing.” He pushed himself to his feet, “Alright.  I…I will. I’ll come with you.  Allow me to gather my belongings.  I will meet you outside.” He saluted the two of them, “Ad Victoriam.”  
                Danse’s fist met his chest, “Ad Victoriam, Brother.”  
                Liera mimicked the motion, but remained silent.  
                Danse beckoned Liera to follow as he climbed the steps leading out of the bunker.  He opened the door, extending a polite hand gesture, “After you.”  
                She walked outside into the windy Boston air.  
“I’m going to hold you that promise, and I have a lot of questions.” Danse’s elbow rested on his helmet, “But you handled yourself honorably back there.  You've earned my respect, soldier.”  
                Liera was taken off guard by the commendation, “Uh…thank you. Ad Victoriam…I think?”  
“’Ad Victoriam’ means, ‘To Victory.’” Danse explained, “In our eyes, defeat is unacceptable because we're fighting for mankind’s future.  Our rallying cry is more powerful than any weapon you could ever carry.  Don’t ever forget that.”  
“Ah.” She frowned as she was reminded of home, “We have something like that.  More of a mouthful, though.”  
“What is it?” He looked at her curiously.  
“’United, we stand.  Divided, we ambush.’” She grinned.  
“That’s rather…menacing.”  
“We have to be.” Her eyebrows pinched, “Look, I may not be from here or meet your high standards, but…” She shook her head, “Earth deserves a fighting chance just like any other planet.  I’ll do everything I can to give you that.”  
                He didn’t say anything.  
                Liera coughed, her lungs wheezing as she closed her visor, “As long as Earth doesn’t kill me, first…”  
“I’ll do everything I can to make sure that it doesn’t.”  He wasn’t being sarcastic in quoting her.  
                He seemed…frightened.  
“Ready on your mark, Paladin.” Brandis closed the bunker door behind them, slinging a large military duffle over his shoulder.  
“Let’s regroup and form a plan.” Danse ordered, “Oh, and Brandis?”  
“Yes?” He answered.  
                Danse handed him his shotgun, “Don’t shoot the giant robot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _The picture above is a screenshot of Planet Victor during Operation: Fracture._


	8. Minutes to Midnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"In the hour of darkness and peril and need,_  
>  _The people will waken and listen to hear,_  
>  _The hurry hoof-beats of that steed,_  
>  _And the midnight message of Paul Revere."_  
>  -Henry Wadsworth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ** _Archive Quick Reference Guide_**  
>  **The Doomsday Clock:** A symbol which represents the likelihood of a human-caused global catastrophe.  
>  The Clock represents the hypothetical global catastrophe as "midnight."  
>  **General Anderson:** He originally led the 1st Fleet aboard the flagship _MCS Redeye._ After his death, there was no longer a Commander-in-Chief, Frontier Command. (CINCFRONT)  
>  One of his three surviving sons is Major Eli Anderson.  
>  **Klick:** Military slang for "kilometer."  
>  **KPS:** Kilometers Per Second.  
>  **IP:** Initial Point.  
>  **JP:** Jump Point.  
>  **Thermophotovoltaic (TPV):** Energy conversion that is a direct conversion process from heat to electricity via photons.

* * *

* * *

 

                anse felt the silent anger radiating from Haylen’s core as she trudged next to him.  He deemed it inappropriate to address her frustration over Scribe Farris's death in front of Brandis, who was having a hard enough time coping with EV.  
_“Liberty Prime…A prototype?”_  He had asked upon seeing her, followed by twitching.   
                Brandis twitched a lot.  
_“It’s only by luck I didn’t end up like him.”_ Danse reminded himself, _“Without Rhys and Haylen, I probably would have.”_  
“A new Frontier…” Brandis parroted the transmission, “An entire Militia fleet…”  
                Haylen looked at him, “What are you going on about _now?”_  
“Tone, Haylen.” Danse warned, “Watch it.”  
“Yes, sir...” She answered.  
                The ground rumbled beneath their feet with every step EV took.  
“The Militia are terrorists.” Brandis whispered.  
                Rhys was surprised, “What’s that supposed to mean?”  
                Danse sighed, “Now is not the time nor place, Knight.”  
                The recording made him weary, but his team had more pressing matters to concern themselves with.  
_“There are two sides to every war…”  
                _ Still, a nagging doubt lingered.  
“ _…is she serving the right one?”  
                _ And no matter how hard he tried, it wouldn’t go away.

…

  
“…Should’a left with you on the Odyssey.  Now, all I can do is hold you to your promise.”  
“Run voice recognition.” Liera’s eyes reddened from lack of blinking.  
                She was fixated on the display, waiting for the light to turn green.  
“Pilot, the previous five attempts to run vocal recognition indicates that this Pilot is not in any Militia database.” EV answered.  
                Liera grunted, “Again.”  
_“Who is he?  Who was he to MacAllan?”_  
“…Sir, our forces have assembled at rally point Alpha…Pilot, there’s a hardpoint in that building.  Get in there, and patch me in.”  
“Rewind that segment.” Liera leaned forward.  
“…rally point Alpha…hardpoint in that building.” Blisk’s voice rattled.  
                Her brows creased, “Open Pilot Log ‘L.LASTI-08.’  Keep volume in-helmet.”  
“ <<AUDIO RETRIEVED>>  
Pulling clip now:”  
                Cheng “Bish” Lorck, a Militia hacker, began his briefing, “Crew, this is Bish.  At 0800 today, General Anderson succumbed to wounds sustained in battle.  We are out of jump range from every other Fleet in the sector.  In short, we are on our own.  Every ship in _this_ Fleet has less than two hours of fuel.  Our options are limited.  Either we get the fuel we need, or we die out here. Sarah, tactical report.”  
                 A younger Sarah Briggs addressed the briefing hold, “All viable fuel sources within range are heavily fortified and under IMC control.  We’ve selected a remote target in the Yuma system, which gives us enough time to conduct a raid.  Pilots, you are being tasked with keeping the Anti-Air-Defense Systems offline while the Fleet refuels overhead.”  
“Let’s make this count, people.” Bish encouraged, “We’ll have the element of surprise, but not for long.  Good luck. Signing off.”  
                The loudspeaker clicked.  
“Don’t make that face, babe.” Liera remembered Ryan’s touch on her hand, “You watch my back, and I’ll watch yours.”  
“Fast forward to mission drop.” She mumbled in live time, her fists rubbing the dryness from her eyes.  
                EV did as requested. _  
_                 The dropship’s aviator voiced over the comms, “Jump control, this is Phantom One Dash Three, 50 klicks from IP link.  KPS is 2.25, over.”  
“Rodger, Phantom One.” A control operator answered, “Proceed to link then track One Four Niner, align to primary JP, and sound off.”  
“Green, good to go.” He responded.  
“Rodger that.  All flights, initiate jump sequence.” The operator confirmed.  
                Liera could feel Ryan nudging her arm, “Here we go!”  
“You are way, _way_ too excited about this.” Her laughter rang over the ammunition clicking in her rifle.  
                The aviator voiced overhead, “Jumping in 3…2…1…Mark!”  
“Patching through to next segment.” EV said.  
                The dropship growled as it descended, making Bish difficult to hear over the channel, “The civilian Fleet is right behind us.  Most of the ships are running on fumes right now!”  
                Turrets fired in the background as Captain Dunnam’s distress signal interrupted him, “This is the Redeye! We’re taking a lot of flak!  We need those turrets offline _now!_ ”  
                Sarah’s footsteps clanked against the metal aisle, “Alright, Pilots!  We need this fuel, or none of us are going to make it!”  
                Liera’s harness buzzed as it retracted into the seat.  
                Briggs opened the deployment hatch, “The Fleet’s counting on you! Go! Go! Go!”  
                Liera’s jump kit broke her fall as her boots hit the ground. Her father and his Titan, BT-7274, waited for the rest of the Pilots to follow before barking orders, “McCord, take your team up this road!  The rest of you move through this building behind me and secure the area!” _  
_                 Bish called out through the Militia comms, “LastiRoyal, get to a hardpoint and patch me in so I can deal with the turrets!”  
“There,” Liera said, pausing the recording, “Fast forward to hardpoint encounter.”  
                The cursor zoomed forward on the playback bar.  
“This is the Redeye!” Dunnam panicked, “We’re at 50% hull integrity and dropping fast!”  
“Pilot Royal responding! The IMC has this place on lock-“ A bullet whizzed past Ryan’s head, “We’re pinned down!”  
“You guys gotta get me patched into another hardpoint!” Bish shouted, “Marking your HUD!”  
“Ryan, come on!” Liera fired at the IMC troop that came through the door as they retreated.  
“Bish, our tactics are a mess.” Briggs said.  
“Sarah, neither of us have any experience leading a force of this size. Without General Anderson-” Bish argued.  
“Some constructive feedback, then,” Tai interrupted, BT’s guns firing in the background, “Keep this channel clear…Soldiers, we’ve got a good lead!  Keep it up!”  
                The recording froze, then started up on its own again, “Well, the Fleets got enough fuel to get through another month.” Bish said.  
                Liera paused it, “Wait, where’s the entry from the second hardpoint?”  
“Searching Archive…Audio/Video file stored in ‘L.LASTI-08.BLACKLIST.’”  
_“What? Why?”_  
“Recon authorization code 3422, overriding blacklist for mission-critical information.” She said, “Commence video playback.”  
                EV projected the video across her visor:  
               Liera’s trembling fingers fiddled with the control panel.  Her data knife’s handle projected a circular display that scrolled through number combinations.  Ryan hovered overhead, his rifle pointed at the door in front of them.  
“Almost there...” Liera watched the last number lock in place, “Bish, you’re good to go!”  
“Enemy at two o’clock!” Ryan fired.  
                A jump kit flared.  
                Liera paused the video, “Rewind to hostile Pilot.”  
                EV rewound the recording, the Pilot’s back facing the camera.  
“Freeze image.” She said.  
                Her tech glove gripped the holograph like a spider who’d caught a fly.  She extended her pointer finger and thumb, zooming in on the stilled frame.  
                The Pilot was male, and had a flag patched on his arm.  The upper left hand corner was blue with white stars, and the rest was filled in with red and white stripes.  
“Is this you, Mystery Pilot?” She glared at him, cursing his IMC markings.  
                Liera continued to pine over her newest obsession.

…

The mist that rolled through the Revere Satellite Array stank of rot more pungent than the Ghouls at the police station.  Unlike the dead Ghouls, however, the corpses that littered these grounds were green, 8 feet long, 3 feet wide, and etched with muscles the size of Danse’s Power Armor limbs.  
“Super Mutant scum…” Rhys growled.  
“Farris, he…He stayed behind, despite my orders to retreat...I…I can’t go back in there.” Brandis was lost in his own nightmare, “I can’t…”  
“It’s okay, Paladin.” Danse consoled, “We’ll take it from here.  Rhys, Haylen, stay with him.  Lastimosa, on me.”  
“Yes, sir!” Rhys answered.  
                Haylen shot Brandis a venomous look, but remained silent.  
                Liera disembarked, “EV, wait here and keep the channel open.”  She paused, “And, uh, run a power supply inquiry for me quick.”  
                EV processed the request.

  
 “Battery 1: 98%  
  Battery 2: 72%  
  Battery 3: 10%  
  Battery 4: 65%  
  Battery 5: 99%  
  Battery 6: 84%  
  ASRG and Cores 1-7 at 100% capacity.”

  
                Liera sighed, “Let’s get a charge on 3 and get medical back online.  Redistribute power from 1 to 4 in the event it drops lower than 50%.”  
_“Battery 4 powers basic motor functions...”_ Liera shuddered at the prospect of being stuck in the Commonwealth without EV by her side.  
“Powering down all nonessential functions and activating thermophotovoltaic power cells. Battery recharge rate: Above average.” EV confirmed.  
                Liera trotted over to Danse.  
“You’ll have to explain the science behind her, sometime.” He said, looking at EV.  
“Curious?” She grinned.  
“A little.” He admitted.  
                She followed him through the remnants of a gate, entering the compound.  One of the towers had fallen, leaving an overturned dish outside of the control room.  
                Four enormous satellite dishes yet remained on top of rusted steel bars. The majority of their panels had gaping holes, or were missing entirely. Their antennas were mantled with moss and neglect.   
_“Might not be the best quality signal, but they should get the job done.”_  
                A red bobble swayed from a railing near the top of a tower.  
“What are those for?” She pointed.  
                Danse grunted, “Meat sacks.  Flesh and bone strung up by Mutants to strike fear in those who’d oppose them.  Repulsive.”  
                Liera took a sharp breath, keeping her gaze fixated on the door to the control room.  
                A Mutant body blocked their path, a gaping hole in its skull. She knelt to observe the kill shot.  
“.50 caliber, velocity impact from .97 kilometers.” EV wrote across her HUD. _  
_ She looked around to find similar wounds donned on the others.  
“Whoever cleared this place out knew what they were doing.” She whispered.  
_“Shot them all from a klick out…They could still be out there, watching.”_  
                The sense of danger raised the hairs on the back of her neck.   
“You coming?” Danse stood next to the door of the command station.  
                Liera turned to him, “Yeah, sorry.”  
                A bustling from within gave him pause.  Danse pulled his weapon from his holster.   
                She gripped her rifle and leaned on the opposite side of the door, giving him a thumbs up.  
                Danse nodded, clicking door’s handle and pushing it open.  
                Liera crouched, turning the corner and aiming her weapon at all angles inside the room.  
                The flashlight on her gun fell upon two dome-shaped eyes before Danse gripped her harness, pulling her backwards.  
                A two-foot long insect attached itself to her, and a sharp pain made her right arm tingle.  The flurry of its wings knocked the smaller flies to the ground.  
                A silver arm swiped it away, red lights flaring overhead.  Danse had knocked the thing off of her, firing at it with is laser rile as it flew away.   
                Danse’s visor was also red, something she hadn’t seen before.  It gave his black suit of Armor a sinister look, like a demon one would encounter in the wasteland.  
                Liera jumped to her feet, wiping the dirt from her suit.  
“Thanks.” She grunted, her glove playing with the tattered fabric of her sleeve.  
_“A hole? Seriously?”  
_ “Are you hurt?” He asked, his visor turning white again, “I would have opened fire immediately, but I didn’t want to risk damaging the equipment.”  
“It’s fine, I’m…I’m alright.  Why did your visor turn red?” She asked.  
“Infrared targeting system.” He answered, “Are you sure?  Bloodbug bites are extremely painful.”  
                She shifted nervously, “My right arm is… _particularly_ armored.”  
                A new foul smell wafted across her helmet’s air intake.  
“Oh, God,” Liera waved her hand in front of her face, coughing, “What _is_ that?”  
                A decayed body slumped in a computer chair, wearing armor similar to Haylen’s.  A distress pulser sat next to an aged computer on the desk behind the gruesome scene.  
“Scribe Farris…” Haylen choked.  
                Liera jumped at the sound of her voice.  She turned around to find Haylen cupping her mouth.  
“Haylen, I gave you a direct order to stay with Paladin Brandis.” Danse scorned.  
“I’m sorry, I saw the gunfire and…” She swallowed, “Requesting to retrieve his holotags, sir.”  
                He sighed, “Proceed.  Then return to your post, immediately.”  
                Haylen’s lip quivered as she wrapped a surgical mask over her face, lowering her goggles from the brim of her hat.  Her hands traced the lining of Farris’s jacket and searched his pockets, grimacing as the oily flesh underneath seeped through the cloth at her touch.  
                Liera’s insides churned, _“Haylen must have a lead fucking stomach.”  
_ “They’re gone.” Haylen whispered, clicking a button on the pulser next to him.  
                A small tape ejected, and she placed it in her pouch, “This’ll have to do.” She turned away, all but running out of the room, “I’ll mark the site for burial.”  
                Danse’s helmet remained fixated on her as she walked across the blood-crusted grass.  Liera wheeled the body out of the way, her abdominal muscles clenching as she tried not to throw up.  
“What do you think about Scribe Haylen?” Danse asked.  
                She was surprised by the question, “I don’t really know her well enough to give her a military evaluation.”  
“She’s a model soldier.” He looked at Liera, “But I wasn’t looking for an evaluation of her performance as a Scribe. I wanted to know what you thought of Haylen…as a person.”  
“Well,” Liera crouched, looking underneath the computer desk, “She’s definitely a team player.  She’s been a little off since Brandis joined our company, but that was to be expected.  Why, what’s up?”  
“I’m worried about her.” Danse lowered his voice.  
                She studied the tower the computer was plugged in to, her fingers searching for a power button, “Sounds like something you should be discussing with _her_.”  
“If you'd allow me to explain, I think you'd understand precisely why that wouldn't be appropriate.” He said.  
                Liera pressed a button, surprised to see it power on, “I’m listening.”  
                Danse took a deep breath, “A few weeks before you found us, one of my men was shot multiple times by Raiders.  Haylen stayed by that Knight's side for two days straight without sleep fighting to keep him alive...but he was on a slow decline.  He was paralyzed and internally bleeding...and out here, that's as good as a death sentence.” _  
_**“My legs,” Liera cried, “Jack, I can’t feel my-“** _  
_                 She shuddered as she tried to mute the memories of Demeter.  
                Danse continued, “I decided that his suffering needed to end and ordered Haylen to administer an overdose of painkillers so he could die with dignity. Even though I'm certain she wanted to continue fighting for that Knight's life, she injected him without question.” _  
_**“You’ll be okay.” Jack stabbed her arm with a needle, “I’ll be with you every step of the way.”**  
                She choked the flashback down, standing up.  
                He continued his story, “Later that night, Haylen approached me while I was on watch. She didn't say a word, but I could tell something was wrong.  After what felt like an eternity, she collapsed into my arms, crying. I...I didn't know what to do, so I just held her for a while.”  
**“No!” Liera screamed, trying to escape the stretcher’s bindings, “Why didn’t he listen…Why didn’t he-“  
                Jack squeezed her hand, “I’m sorry.”** _  
_ Her mind refused to release her. _  
_ “Right then it hit me...” Danse went on, “Maybe I pushed her too hard. I ordered her to ignore her instincts. To do something her medical training told her was wrong.”  
**“We don’t leave Militants behind!” Liera yelled as the ship stabilized from jumping, “We don’t fucking leave each other!”** _  
_ “That's why I'm worried about her...and for that matter, everyone under my command.” He admitted, “Finding Paladin Brandis unstable, seeing Scribe Farris rotted, hearing about Knight Astlin...that could have been _us._   That could have been Haylen, or Rhys…”  
                Liera remembered her surgery and how quickly Sarah visited her afterwards.  Briggs and Graves had made the decision to leave Demeter with Militia forces on the ground.  Guilt had enveloped the young Commander.  But it was necessary, as are such things during times of war.  
“This isn’t really about Haylen, is it?” Liera whispered, her helmet meeting his.  
“No, I guess not.” He shifted, “Look, four soldiers... over half of my team, are gone. Each one of them died because of decisions that I made.” Danse turned to the distress pulser still sitting on the desk, “I understand the risks that come with the job, we all do.  But how can anyone have confidence in me anymore?” He shook his head, “Hell, how can I have confidence in myself?”  
                She retracted her visor so that he could see her face, “Hey,” she snapped her fingers in front of his face, “Snap out of it.”  
                Liera put her hands on her hips, “My father once told me, ‘War tempers the strong and breaks the weak.’” She smiled, “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t peg you as the latter.”  
                Danse paused for a moment.  Liera was worried she’d offended him.  
“More than you realize.  Those are sound words, soldier.” He said, “I'm only sorry you had to see me at my worst instead of at my best.”  
“Happens to the best of us.” She grinned, pointing to the computer behind her, “Now, help me get this thing up and running.”  
“All that technology, and you don’t know how to use a terminal?” He joked.  
“Honestly, I’ve never seen a computer this old in person.” Liera crossed her arms, “If anything, I’m _over_ qualified.”  
                He leaned over the desk, hitting a button on the boxed screen.  
“You didn’t turn the monitor on.” Danse chuckled.  
“Oh.”  She watched the screen of the computer buzz to life as blocky green letters loaded on the screen, reading, _“Property of the United States Armed Forces.”_  
“The Brotherhood rose from the ashes of the U.S. military, you know.” Danse explained.  
“What’s that?” She asked.  
“The United States of America, the country we’re in.” He put his hands on his hips, “Us Americans are Patriots, through thick and thin. No bombs will ever change that.”  
                A picture of a flagpole popped up over a loading bar.  
                It secured the same flag from the Mystery Pilot’s patch.  
“Is that your country’s flag?” Liera asked.  
“It is.” He answered.  
_“The Mystery Pilot was American.”_  
                A chirp came from the computer.  
“The terminal seems to be in functioning order. How, is beyond me.” Danse shook his head, “It must be bypassed in to Diamond City’s grid, but…” _  
_                 The terminal asked for a password.  
“Damn it.” He growled.  
“This, I know how to do.” She pulled her data knife from her vest, “Is there a…I don’t know, a slot where you’d load something…?”  
“Right here.” His fingers flicked a rectangular door on the base of the terminal, “This is normally where you’d load a holotape.”  
“’Normal,’ doesn’t really apply to anything lately, does it?” She smirked.  
“No, I suppose it doesn’t.” Danse said.  
                Liera stuck the bladed sensor in the slot, “EV, I’m patching you through for password decryption.”  
“Standing by.” EV answered.  
                Letters began to scroll on the monitor.  
“You seem to use that quite often.  How does the ‘data knife’ work, exactly?” He watched her.  
“It’s a super-powered diagnostics tool, military variant.” Liera grinned, “The blade is a sensor that scans information bays and can remotely access any display. If it gives me an error code, EV figures out what’s wrong.  There’s other things it can do for more… _complicated,_ procedures.”  
“’Complicated,’ as in?” Danse asked.  
“Hacking a Spectre, opening an enemy Titan’s battery well-“  
“You attack other Titans on foot?” He unfolded his arms.  
“Of course.  EV may be a Vanguard class Titan, but even she needs help sometimes.” Liera paused, “The Militia has anti-Titan weapons for ground personnel, you know.  It’s not like we run around shooting at them with peashooters.”  
                She stood up, stretching her back, “Besides, you’d never let anything bad happen to me, right EV?”  
“Correct.  Failure to do so would be a direct violation of protocol three.” EV said.  
                Liera laughed, “Oh, is that the _only_ reason?”  
“The Commonwealth lacks viable candidates for Pilot training.” EV admitted.  
“Wise-ass.” She growled.  
“Defining-“  
“No, not again…Forget I said anything.” Liera sighed.  
“Request confirmed.  Deleting Pilot Log.”  
                She turned to EV, “What?! No! It was a joke!”  
“I too, was making a joke.”  
“Ugh.” Liera facepalmed.  
“Password override: SUCCESSFUL.  Initializing satellite array.” EV said, “Triangulating Frontier Interstellar Communications Network… <<TARGET ACQUIRED>> Adjusting your position.”  
“That’s our cue,” Liera put her knife back in her vest, “Let’s meet up with them.”  
“She’ll stay connected without your tool?” Danse asked.  
“Once she’s been wired in somewhere, the gateways are saved to her memory.” She explained as they left the building and began to walk back to the rest of the squad.  
                They watched as the satellites slowly rotated sideways, then upwards, seeking out Harmony.  It made Liera’s heart warm when the dishes stopped moving, like they were showing her the way home.  
“It’s amazing they still work.” Danse said through his helmet.  
“Yeah…” Liera took a deep breath.  
“Something wrong?” He asked.  
“Just mentally preparing myself.” Her fingers unlatched her helmet from her collar.  
“Functional channels established.” EV announced through her loudspeaker as they approached the group.  
                Liera removed her helmet and turned to them, “Alright, guys.  These channels are secure, but not impermeable.  Keep any sensitive information to yourself…Uh,” She cleared her throat, “Please.”  
“Understood.” Danse responded.  
“Could you…” She ran her fingers through her hair, “Maybe…Get out of that Power Armor?”  
“Why?” He asked offended.  
                She rubbed the back of her neck, “It looks a little threatening, is all.”  
                Danse sighed, “Fine.”  
                Rhys laughed, “Is the Militia _that_ sensitive?”  
“Our hands on the panic button get a little restless.” She smiled, “And I don’t wanna find out _how_ restless they are today.”  
                EV stood, stepping back a few feet before kneeling and projecting a holographic display from her ocular hub.  A spinning Militia symbol appeared.  
“ <<CONTACTING MILITIA COMMAND>>  
Waiting for answer…  
Answer received…  
Encrypting channel…  
<<ENCRYPTED CONNETION ESTABLISHED>>”  
                Liera corrected her posture and folded her hands behind her back.  Her shoulders were straightened, and her chin was parallel to the ground.  
                Bish answered, “This is Frontier Militia Command- respond with call sign and input, over.”  
“This is Maverick and Warden, input Foxtrot, Alfa, Lima, Lima, Oscar, Uniform, Tango, over.”  
“Rodger that, input accepted.” He smiled as the video went live, “Well, if it isn’t the devil herself.”  
“It is, indeed.” Liera waved, smiling, “Glad to see you’re still in one piece.  Think that big brain of yours can forward me to M-COR _?”_  
“I can do that.” He grinned, “Patching you through.  We Remember, Pilot.”  
“We Remember.” Liera saluted.  
                The video feed switched to a spinning SRS icon, the words, “United, We Stand. Divided, We Ambush,” scrolling underneath.  
                Liera peaked behind her.  The Brotherhood seemed almost as nervous as she was.  
“This is call sign Marauder.  Establishing video connection.” Sarah answered.  
“Evening, Commander.” Liera watched her pace back and forth, her thumbs looped through her belt around her hips.  
“There we go.” Sarah leaned in, “Hey there, Pilot.  I see you’ve made some new friends.” Briggs gave an enthusiastic wave, “Well, greetings from the Frontier!  I hope our soldiers haven’t caused too much trouble.”  
                Liera turned to Danse, beckoning him forward with a nod.  He took his hood off and fixed his hair as he walked over, “This is Paladin Danse of the Brotherhood of Steel.  My recon squad encountered your agents during an encounter gone awry.  They’ve been quite helpful.”  
“As they should be.  We’ve put a lot of work into those two.” Briggs smiled, “Warden, send me what you’ve got.”  
“Copy that. Transmitting report.” EV said.  
“Got it.  There’s a lot of information here- great work, team. I expect another report in seven days, so stay alive, and stay active.” Sarah pinched her temple, “Now, I’m transferring you to the _MacAllan_ before I have your father discharged.  Briggs, out.”  
_“Great…Can’t wait for this to go horribly wrong.”  
_ “Encrypted feed is being redirected.” EV announced.  
                The SRS icon returned briefly before Tai’s face was transmitted in front of them.  His silver, short hair made his tan skin seem darker.  He had sunken eyes, and they were bloodshot as if he hadn’t slept in days.  The burn scar on the right side of his face folded as he yawned.  
                Tai was sitting down in front of his computer in the Command Deck.  Various soldiers walked behind him, and the orange lights of the _MacAllan_ bounced off the metal walls. _  
_                 Jack sat on a table behind him, holding a white fuzzball in his hands.  
_“What the hell?”_  
“This is Captain Lastimosa aboard the _MCS James MacAllan._   Waiting for video feed.” He kept typing.  
                His brown eyes flitted around the screen as he spoke.  He was clearly not interested in talking.  
                Liera took a deep breath, “Hey, dad.”  
                His face lit up as he recognized the voice.  
“Is that Liera?” Jack looked up.  
_“Fucking Christ…”_  
                Jack put the cat down, leaping from the table and coming over.  
“Ah, there’s the video.” Tai said.  
“Who is she with?” Jack asked.  
“How the hell should I know?”  
                The cat walked across the screen, “Move! Damn cat.” Tai picked it up, giving it back to Jack.  
“Don’t you swear at my cat.” Liera squinted.  
“Forget Dusty, you’ve been deployed for 52 hours without a single word. I trained you better than that.” Her father scolded.  
“Rifleman Cooper, what are you…Why is there a fucking cat in here?” A voice came from the background, “This is restricted-“  
“He’s with me, Major Anderson.” Tai looked to somewhere off-screen.  
“Cooper or the cat?” Anderson asked.  
“...Both. Something about the barrack’s gravity needing recalibrated.  They should be done soon.” He grinned, nodding to the screen, “Come here for a sec.”  
_“No, no, no.”_  
                Anderson walked over, leaning in on the other side of Tai.  
_“Please don’t say it.”_  
“Hey there, Little Lastimosa.  Still in one piece, I see.”  
_“He said it.”_  
“Major…” She saluted, her face turning bright red, “Guess the mission isn’t so… _classified,_ anymore?”  
“SRS lifted the ban on your docket to Broadsword Command.  Cole and I got to see the field copy, and Cooper…Well, he’s just an overly-informed pain in my ass as usual.”  
                Jack frowned.  
“Briggs just sent us a transcript of your report. We’ll start going through it as soon as possible.” Anderson finished.  
“Who’s this guy?” Tai nodded to Danse.  
                Danse looked down to Liera.  
“Go ahead.” She whispered.  
                He cleared his throat, “This is Paladin Danse of the Brotherhood of Steel.  Behind me are Scribe Haylen, Knight Rhys, and Paladin Brandis.  We are also a recon team.  Your agents have been imperative to our operation.”  
“Interesting.” Tai rubbed his chin, “By choice?”  
                The question caught Danse off-guard, “Pardon?”  
“Did they choose to help you or are you making them help you?” Tai’s face was reminiscent of a Prowler, ready to bare its fangs and jump through the screen.  
“We were outnumbered by an overwhelming force.  They responded to our distress beacon, and have been traveling with us since.  My commanding officer is currently inbound-“  
“That doesn’t answer my question.” Tai interrupted him.  
“Dad, we’re not POWs.  We’re helping them out, and learning about everything that happened here and what’s happening _now._ ” Liera held her hands up, “Chill out.”  
                Major Anderson laughed, “Leave it to your daughter to make first contact with the native military.”  
                Liera shrugged, “Trouble is a talent. I swear.”  
_“All personnel, be advised: Operation Broadsword is a go.  Diagnostics test 2.1:  All Mark VIII lifeboats are in the green.”_ Bish announced over the loudspeaker.  
_“Confirmed.  3rd Militia Grenadiers, prep Dropship MacAllan 17.”_ Cole’s voice echoed throughout the ship, _“This is Captain Cole to communications.  Major Anderson, please report to briefing.”_ The speaker clicked.  
“Well, you heard the man.  Gotta run.  Keep your head down out there.” Anderson gave her a thumbs up.  
“You as well, Major Anderson.” She smiled nervously.  
                Anderson turned to Cooper, “You get out of here as soon as that transmission is over.  You hear me?”  
“Yes, Major.” Jack saluted him, cat in hand.  
                Anderson scoured, leaving the Deck.  
                Tai rested his elbow on the desk as he twirled a pen in his fingers.  He looked behind him, grinning.  
“Thanks for having my back.” Jack rolled his eyes.  
“Hey, he’s my boss too.” Tai chuckled.  
“Operation Broadsword? The operation that’s supposed to be a month out?” Liera interrupted.  
                Tai put his pen down, “Son, why don’t you go see if they’re done with the quarters?”   
                Jack crinkled his nose, “Yeah, yeah.  I know what that means.” He looked back to the screen, “Watch your ass out there.  Love ya sis.”  
“Love you, too…” She blushed again.  
_“God, this is embarrassing.”_  
                Jack raised the cat’s paw, making him wave goodbye as they walked away.  
                Liera heard Danse cough as he held back a laugh.  
_“End me.”  
                _ Tai turned in his chair, shaking his head as Jack left the Deck, “Sorry about that.”  
“As you were saying?” She mumbled. _  
_ “Grenier and his team found something much bigger than we expected.  We hadn’t heard from you, and we couldn’t wait, so…” He clasped his hands, resting his chin on his knuckles.  
“What is it?” She asked, “What did they find?”  
“Not over the channel, sweetheart.”  
                Liera didn’t care if anyone was watching anymore.  She hardly cared about the Commonwealth, at this point, “There’s got to be a way to send an evac carrier.”  
                Tai shook his head, “Too far.  Believe me, I ran all the tests myself.”  
“The Militia needs us, why can’t-“  
“Those people down there need you, too.” Tai’s brow creased, “Do you understand?”  
The loudspeaker clicked, _“This is Bish to communications.  Captain Lastimosa, please report to Titan Bay for pre-deployment diagnostics test.”  
_ “Diagnostics?” Liera took a sharp breath, “That means there’s less than a day-“  
“I’m sorry.” Tai picked his helmet up from his desk, “We’re out of time.  You there, Paladin Danse.  Keep her out of trouble.  She’s a magnet for it.”  
“We…We’ll do our best.” Danse smiled awkwardly.  
“Love ya, kid.” Tai sighed, looking at Liera and reaching for the keyboard.  
“Dad, wait!” She lifted her hand to the holograph as if she could touch him.  
                Tai paused, “What is it?”  
                It felt just like before- a thousand words reeling through her mind, and a pair of lungs that just didn’t know how to say them.  
“I…” Her hand fell, “I love you too.”  
“’I’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. We’ll all be fine.’ Just like you said, remember?” He smiled.  
“…Right.” She choked.  
“Lastimosa, out.”  
                He tapped a button on the dashboard, and the feed went dark.  
“Communications: OFFLINE.” EV said. _  
_                 She stared at the blank space where his hologram once stood, and time seemed to slow to a halt.  
                A firm hand on her shoulder snapped her back to reality, “You okay?”  
                Danse cocked his head, leaning slightly to meet her eyes.  
“As okay as I can be, I guess…” She said.  
                His hand dropped from her shoulder, “You seem to have a nice family.”  
“Yeah…They’re…pretty great.” Her eyes flickered to Danse’s concerned stare, then back to the ground, “I’m sorry if that seemed…Crass.  The Militia isn’t very formal.”  
“An apology isn’t necessary.  Every branch operates differently.” He answered, “Your commanding officers seem respectable.”  
“They are.” She looked up to him, “I’d spill my own blood for any of them.”  
“Your level of dedication is admirable.  I hope the Brotherhood will earn the same from you during your stay with us.” He said.  
“Eh…You’re growing on me.” She joked.  
                His eyebrows raised, as if surprised.  
                Liera’s face reddened, “The Brotherhood, I mean.  Not saying you aren’t-“  
“Pilot, we are two hours behind schedule.  It is recommended that we proceed with the mission.” EV interrupted.  
                Liera took the opportunity to shove her helmet over her embarrassed face.  
                She gave a Militia salute to Danse, “On your mark, sir.”  
                He snapped himself out of whatever was going through his head, “EV’s right, team.  Get ready to move out.” He walked over to his Power Armor, ignoring the intent stares from the rest of them.  
“We’re not going to talk about the fact that…that the Militia is a…a _real_ thing?” Rhys stuttered.  
“No time,” Danse spoke through his helmet as the chamber behind him closed, “We’ve got work to do.”

 


	9. The Pilot's Gauntlet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"The 9th Militia fleet was en route to attack an IMC-controlled planet called Typhon. Zero civilian presence – I only knew that it housed an ‘IMC military research facility.’_  
>  _Aboard the James MacAllan, my Pilot training continued with Captain Lastimosa, a master level Pilot…and my adoptive father. I’m not sure why he chose to break protocol and mentor me, that day of all days, but I’m glad he did...”_  
>  -Jack Cooper's Logbook

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ** _Archive Quick Reference Guide_**  
>   
>  **Angel City:** Originally built by the refugees of the Frontier, Angel City was taken under IMC control during the Titan Wars and now serves as their last remaining base of operations. The Militia has yet to reclaim the city, as their forces remain focused on keeping the IMC from gaining more territory.  
>  **Harmony:** Harmony is a planet within the Freeport System of the Frontier. It is portrayed as a peaceful and calm planet, with sleek stone and wooden architecture, along with plenty of hexagonal rock formations. Harmony functions as a headquarters to the Frontier Militia, but is home to millions of others.  
>  **SERE Kit:** A Pilot's SERE (Survival Evasion Resistance Escape) Kit consists of a knife, Smart Pistol MK5, and the corresponding Titan's CPU. A SERE Kit is available in every active-duty Militia Titan as a Pilot's last ditch effort against enemy forces after their Titan has been rendered inoperable. The SERE Kit is only effective in assisting a Pilot's escape and survival from the battlefield.  
> 

* * *

* * *

                ack sat on his bed with a purring, white fluff ball in his lap.  Normally, Dusty wouldn’t have anything to do with him, but since Liera was gone, he was the cat’s new favorite person.  Their quarters were small, with two beds on either side of the entrance.  A hallway split the back half of the living space.  A kitchen was at the end, the bathroom on the left, and Tai’s room was on the right.  
                The hum of the ventilation systems filled the voiceless room.  
                He looked at Liera’s neatly made bed and her trinkets that collected dust on the shelves above it.  Jack focused on one picture in particular- of Liera, Ryan, Tai, and himself.   CON, BT, and EV formed a mechanical backdrop.  
                It didn’t seem that long ago that they were all together, happy; a small, almost complete family, drifting from one critical battle to the next.  
                Jack reflected upon the transmission, and wondered if the Brotherhood was treating Liera the same way.  
“You know, Liera was standing awfully close to that Paladin guy.” He called to his father, who had left his door open while getting ready, “Don’t be surprised if she ends up bringing him home.”  
“What are you rambling on about?” Tai asked.  
“Oh, come on.  Tall. Military. Dark hair, dark eyes.  Totally her type.” He answered.  
“Let him come.  He won’t live for long out here, anyway.”  
“Why?  Because of the war or because of you?” Jack asked.  
“Whichever comes first.”  Tai walked out of his bedroom, fully geared, “Alright, time to prep BT.”  He paused, “Come with me to the Titan Bay.  I’ve got a surprise for you.”  
“The last time you ‘surprised me,’ I ended up on kitchen staff for a month.”  Jack huffed.  
“No Flyer eggs this time,” Tai assured, “I promise.”  
                Dusty scurried under Liera’s bed as Jack patted himself down, making sure he wasn’t forgetting anything.  
_“Helmet, med-kits, guns, grenades, dad’s knife, dog tags, mom’s ring…”  
                _ He kept Evelyn Lastimosa’s ring around the same chain as his tags.  She told Jack she wanted him to use it when he married.  
“You ready yet?” Tai waited impatiently.  
“Yeah.”  Jack checked the cat’s food and water supply before following his father onto the walkway.  
                Tai secured his helmet to his belt, locking the front door behind him.  
“So, we’re almost there, huh?” Jack asked, tucking the chain underneath his uniform.  
“Just about.” A Titan stomped by underneath the bridge they crossed, “I know your _biological_ father’s knife means a lot to you, but I’m not sure how it would fair against Kevlar.”  
“We have this conversation before every deployment.” Jack rolled his eyes. _  
_ “And we’ll keep having it until you put that thing in a nice box and get yourself a reliable blade.” Tai lectured.  
“Whatever you say, pops.”  
“I’m not old enough to be called ‘pops’ yet, _kiddo_.” They turned a corner, saluting an Officer as she passed.  
                Tai was in his fifties, and war had left its signature on every inch of the man.  
“I’m 28 and you still call me ‘kiddo.’  Seems like a ‘pops’ thing to do.” Jack smirked.  
“You know, despite all the whining you do nowadays, Evelyn once told me you were the only kid that didn’t cry when the refugees arrived from Angel City.” Tai said.  
“Is that how you picked me out of the sea of lost pups?” Jack raised his brow, “Or was that mom’s doing?”  
                The two of them entered the Titan Bay where BT was being repaired and modified.  Windows lined the right wall, giving them a front row view of outer space and the planet they were stalking.  
“Once Evelyn spent enough time with you in counseling, she became attached.  That’s when we had the ‘Can we keep him?’ talk.”  Tai paused at the railing, gripping the bar and looking up to BT, “Everyone knew she couldn’t safely bare a child.  The paperwork was expedited, and it only took a year to get you house trained.  Best pet I ever had.”  
“Real funny guy.” Jack leaned, “What’s wrong?  You only get like this when you’re stressed.”  
“Nothing in particular.  Just don’t know if we’ll ever be able to have this talk again.”  Tai turned to him, “Don’t give me that look.”  
“I don’t know what you SRS are telling your Pilots, but Cole’s briefing with the 41 st Militia Rifle Battalion was shit.  And now you’re acting like we’re all gonna’ die.”  
“That’s the risk we came here to minimize.” Tai explained, nodding to a black, egg-shaped contraption behind him, “Get in the sim pod.”  
“Again?  I’m not scheduled with Anderson until next-“  
                Tai ignored him, hitting the button to open it, “In you go, Rifleman Cooper.”  
                Jack eyed the pod with distrust.  
“Get.  In.” Tai tapped his fingers against the door.  
“Aye aye, _Captain._ ” Jack took a deep breath, and did as he was told.  
                The doors failed to close.  
“Oh no, must be broken.” Jack mumbled sarcastically.  
“Ah, Hell…” Tai smacked the side of the machine, “Ship must’ve power cycled it since last time.  Hold tight, we’ll recalibrate it.”  
                Tai nodded to BT as he sat on the railing, tapping the control device on his wrist.  
“Alrighty, then.” Jack said from inside the pod.  
                Every time he’d been in the simulation for training, he’d been placed in what felt like a cold research facility.  
_“Hard to concentrate when you feel like you’re a mouse running through a maze.”  
_                 Jack wondered what he would do if he found cheese at the end of the VR session.  
_“That’d be a plot twist.”  
_ “Alright, we’re good to go.” Tai said, “You ready in there?”  
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”  
                Jack tugged a bar, the Hammond Engineering logo hovering just above his knuckles.  The doors encased him, and two red lights eyed him up.  
                As they turned blue, Tai’s voice came through the pod’s speakers, “Let’s see how much you’ve learned since your training started.” The lights flickered as dozens of green lasers scanned Jack, “Setting neural link.  Not quite the same as a Titan link, but it’s similar.”  
_“Wonderful.  Can’t wait for the headaches.”_  
                Jack was blinded by a bright sunburst, and soon, he was standing in the simulation.

…

  
                Blue particles flitted away from Jack, crafting a hallway made from white, marble rectangles.  A brook flowed on the left side of the walkway, and the arches above it gave it stripes as the sun cast shadows onto the stone.  A tree with pink petals stood above Captain Lastimosa, who sat at its base with his feet dangling.  
“Ah, much better.” Tai seemed relaxed as his voice was projected from his helmet’s speaker.  
_“I’ll never understand those damn helmets.”  
_ “Technically, I’m not supposed to be training you.” Tai admitted.  
“And you’re doing it anyway.” Jack approached him, “Why am I not surprised?”  
                Tai disappeared into a stream of blue light, his trail blazing to a collapsed pillar that barred the entrance of the tunnel.  He sat on it with his feet still kicking off the stone.  
_“Simulation.  Teleporting Lastimosa.  Got it.”  
_ “’Conflict of interest,’ they said. But we’re at war.  It’s all about conflicts, eh?” Tai huffed.  
“Yeah, like the one we’re about to fly into.  Which begs the question, _what_ are we _doing_ here?  What is this place?”  
“Getting you ready for the Gauntlet, like any other time you’ve been in VR.  As for the design…Well, to hone skills, we need to be in the right state of mind.  That’s why I made _this_ course.  More effective than Anderson’s steel tunnels.”  Tai stood, nodding his head and pointing a thumb at the pillar, “Enough chit chat. Now here ya go, up and over!” He clicked a timer on his watch, “Get moving!”  
_“I’m not sure if it’s the Harmonian accent, but when he gets bossy, man, does he sound mean.”  
_                 Jack stepped over the pillar and began jogging down the hall.  
                Tai zoomed passed him as he progressed, “Let’s pick up the pace!  Enabling jump kit assist.”  
                A jump kit materialized around Jack’s waist.  
                Jack began to run, the thrusters on his belt firing at awkward angles.  
“I’ve never been told whether I’m good with these things or not.” Jack admitted, “Anderson trains us in groups.  Not a whole lot of time for one-on-one feedback.”  
“Jump kits operate on the principle of relaxed stability.  Once it calibrates to your movement style, enhanced mobility becomes second nature.” Tai answered, “Keep that in mind, and you’ll do fine.”  
                Jack felt the thrusters beginning to shift as he continued to run.  Tai waited for him in the room at the end of the hall, sitting on the edge of a circular garden. Another twisting, beautiful tree sprinkled pink onto the floor.  Droplets coming from the stream floated up towards the sunny hole in the roof.  
“How is that-“  
                Tai disappeared, his trail leading Jack up a flight of wide, curved steps.  He disappeared through a bright gap in the wall that led outside.  
_“I really wish he’d stop doing that.  Crazy old bat.”  
_                 Jack followed.  
                Tai stood on a bridge, the physics-defying brook bubbling behind him.  Once Jack’s eyes adjusted, he studied the simulation.  
                There were chunks of hexagonal boulder jutting from the ground.  The trees were curved, all of them vibrant with pinks, purples, and whites.  There was grass on the ground and wild flowers, yellow in color.  
“Beautiful, isn’t it?  Inspired by my home Colony in Harmony.  This is where I grew up.” Tai put his hands on his hips, his helmet pointed to the sky.  
_“Veteran of the Titan Wars.  Saw more than his own Colony get burnt to the ground, I’d imagine…”  
_                 Jack noticed the floating variants of stone, dotting the space around them, “What are those?”  
“Polarized steel.” Tai clarified, “It was why the IMC visited my homeland in the first place. To harvest it.  Now, all of this is gone.” He disappeared.  
                Tai stood on one of the pillars, speaking down to Jack as he followed ahead, “This is what we’re fighting for, Cooper.  A world that’s not metal and smoke.  The freedom to live in peace, and prosperity.”  
“It’s an honor to serve the Militia, dad.”  Jack panted, “We’ll have this again one day.”  
“I admire your optimism.”  
                Jack approached a trapezoid-shaped slap of rock, floating between a gap in the bridge.  The water continued to flow along its shape, ignoring the rules of gravity.  Tai sat above it, resting his elbow on his knee. His other hand extended towards the structure, “Let’s make sure your jump kit is primed. Basic wall run here.  Follow the ghost.”  
                A blue figure that looked a lot like Liera appeared next to Jack.  It jumped on the wall and sprinted against it, landing on the other side.  
                Jack hesitated.   
“Come on, Coop.  You can do it.” Tai yawned.  
“Inspiring.” He grunted.  
                Jack took a few steps back before running at the wall.  He jumped onto it, and his thrusters immediately pivoted downwards, keeping him in the air.  His fingers glided against the stone before he disengaged and his boots hit the floor.  
                Tai resembled at Jack’s side, “Good! Now you’re moving.  Follow me.”  
                They ran towards a block that hovered close to the bridge, giving them only a small space to squeeze through.  
“Under here.  Stay low.” Tai slid with the help of his kit.  
                Jack copied him, marveled by the thrusters’ stability.  
_“Using these things never gets old.  Hell on your knees, though.”  
_                 Tai leapt across a gap, his legs extending in midair.  He hugged his knees to his chest, and landed with precision, “Simple double-jump.  Let’s go, Jack!”  
“I’m coming!” Jack called out, irritated.  
                He did his best to copy Tai, but fell short.  He gripped the ledge with his hand, the rest of him dangling.  
“You’ll get the hang of it.” Tai encouraged, pulling Jack to his feet.  
“Miscalculation.  Won’t happen again.” Jack frowned.  
“You’re doing better than any recruit I’ve trained, Coop.”  
                Jack could almost hear him smile.  
“Not much of a compliment considering I’ve been practicing for a few years.” He sighed, “These _recruits_ know they’re being trained by the Militia’s best?”  
“They recognize BT more than anything.  But from what I’m seeing, they aren’t inspired by legends, or tales…They’re inspired by actions.”  Tai walked with Jack in tow, “They remember when we used to just run and hide from the IMC.  But now? _We_ chase _them._ ”  
_“There goes the scary version of his accent again.”  
_                 Tai glinted down another hallway, continuing to speak as he waited for Jack to catch up, “We’ve retaken a quarter of Frontier space since the Battle of Demeter. More people are joining every day to fight for the Frontier.  People like you.”  
“Pissed off and vengeful?” Jack laughed.  
“Very.”  
                Racks of guns materialized in the rotunda, and a shrine appeared in the middle.  A Titan’s sword penetrated a stone, and grass weaved around it.  
_“Must be a memorial of some sort.”  
                _ Jack studied the water flowing up the walls behind the weapons.  
_“I wonder if the gravity actually effected the water this way?”_  
                Tai sat on the ledge, continuing Jack’s’ training, “If there’s one thing my experiences have taught me, it’s that in combat, things never go as you expect…You must be ready to use any weapon you can find on the field.  These are just a few of the weapons I’ve come across out there.  Pick one, and come over here.  Time to hit the range.”  He zoomed to a doorway, leaning against the wall and spinning his knife.  
_“You look like the cliché, renegade hero from an action movie.”_  
                Jack reviewed the weapons carefully, but one caught his eye.  His favorite, the Hemlok BF-R.  
_“Damn Pilots get all the good guns…You just remember who modded yours for you, sis.”_  
                He gripped the assault rifle in his hand, and ran over to his dad.  
                Neon targets hovered in front of more peaceful scenery and floating stones.  As bizarre as it was, he found it calming.  
“Load your weapon.” Tai instructed.  
                Jack loaded it with precision and speed.  
_“Now_ this _I know how to do.”  
_ “Shoot the targets.” Captain Lastimosa ordered.  
                Jack's firm shoulder and tight grip held the rifle stable under the short bursts of fire.  
                The panels shifted as they were struck in a perfect bullseye.  
_“One…Two…Three…Four…Five.”_  
“Targets eliminated.” Jack grinned, lowering his rifle.  
“Good. Now with your pistol.” Tai said.  
                Jack disposed of the new set of five targets even faster.  
“Well done.  More accurate than Liera, even.” Tai examined.  
“You brought Liera in here?” Jack asked, holstering his sidearm.  
“Of course I did.” Tai disappeared.  
“What the hell took you so long with me?”  
“Easy.  She had higher scores in the Academy.  Took you longer to get into a sim.” Tai laughed.  
                Jack briskly returned to the armory, “Where’d you go, smart ass?”  
                A light whizzed into another room with an inverted waterfall, “Over here. Try to keep up.”  
                Jack scratched his head as he followed.  
                When he entered, a blank stats board came on screen, and the chamber next to his father had the holographic words, “START,” lining its entrance.  
“This is it, Coop.”  
                Jack’s eyes squinted, “What do you mean?”  
“The Pilot’s Gauntlet.  You’re going to run it.” Tai leaned against the wall, crossing his arms and poking at the device on his wrist.  
“Wait, you mean the _actual_ Gauntlet?”  
_“Oh no…No, no no no-“_  
“I’ll be with you every step of the way on the local comms.” Tai tapped his helmet, “You can do this, Jack.”  
“I thought it was next week. We-“ _  
_ “Are out of time.  Give an old man some peace of mind, and show me what you can do.”  Tai hit a button on his panel, and the white “START” letters grew brighter.  
                Jack took a deep breath, “Your surprises suck.”  
“Not as much as your self-confidence.” Tai looked at his watch, “Par time is two minutes.  Gotta do better than that to continue.  Follow the ghost, or find your own path.”  
_“Gauntlet ghosts…Recordings of a Pilot’s performance.  I wonder how she ran it…”_  
“Can you launch Liera’s ghost?” Cooper asked.  
“No.  That would put you at a disadvantage.  You can use mine.” Tai laughed.  
“She ran the Gauntlet faster than you?”  
“Cooper.” Tai’s voice was flat, “Walk through the light-screen to begin.  On my mark.”  
“Fine.”  
                Jack’s arms began to shake, and his forehead beaded with sweat, _“This is just the first phase, Cooper. Relax.”  
_                 He approached the line and leaned forward, preparing himself to run as fast as he could.  
“Go!” Tai yelled.  
                The push from the thrusters moved him faster than he’d ever ran before.  A smile broke onto his face as he soared across the room.  Tai’s ghost ran up a flight of stairs to the left, but Jack saw an opportunity.   
                He leapt from the end of the bridge, wall running to fill the gap between it and the next part of the room. He saw four hostiles in the distance.  
“Pilots have to strike a balance in combat.” Tai’s voice rang from the speaker, “Speed is paramount, but you must also hit your targets.”  
                Jack withdrew his pistol, firing on his enemies as he landed.  
                All shots to the head.  
                He launched himself underneath a low-hanging space.  He shot two hostiles mid-slide.  
“You’ll have practice those skills until they’re second nature.” Tai echoed.  
                The thrusters got him on his feet quickly.  
_“Creative mistake.  I’ll take it.”_  
                He found himself in a small maze of blind-spots.  
                Jack rounded a corner, a gun pointed in his face.  He shot the simulated man in the gut.  It disappeared in front of him.  
                He turned left, and continued running, shooting another enemy.  He reloaded his pistol while wall running to the right.  
                Jack leapt across the hall, the thrusters adjusting as he landed on the left side of the room, shooting three hostiles while he continued.   
                He crisscrossed the two sides of a hall until another ledge came up.  He repeated this motion, disposing of the simulated IMC forces that dotted the area.  He went to double-jump up and over a pillar, throwing a grenade behind him to take care of a missed batch of enemies.  
                After a few more wall runs and one more double-jump, Jack slid under the words “FINISH,” completing the Pilot phase of the Gauntlet.  
“Hey – that was my best time.  I must be getting slow…” Tai shook his head.  
“How’d I do?” Jack panted, his hands resting on his knees.  
“Stupid thing might be broken.” Tai grunted, projecting the results on the screen.

 **MOBILITY SKILLS:**  
AVG Speed: 37.7 kph  
MAX Speed: 44.4 kph  
High Speed Time: 84% of last run.

 **COMBAT SKILLS:**  
High Speed Kill: 15 Targets

 **TARGETS ELIMINATED:**  
15/15  
  
“NICE!” Jack raised his fists in the air, “Now what was my time?!”  
                Tai gripped Jack by the shoulders, “0:32:70 seconds.”  It was the happiest he’d sounded since Liera left, “Even knocked out Mayumi.  I knew you could do it, my boy.”  
                Jack was elated, “How’d I fair against the others?”  
                Tai released a defeated sigh as he put the leaderboard up behind them, “See for yourself.”

01: L. Lastimosa.....00:25:05     [M-COR PILOT]

02: R. Royal............00:28:85     [K.I.A.]

**03: J. Cooper.........00:32:70    [R3 RIFLEMAN]**

04: T. Lastimosa.....00:35:45    [SRS CAPTAIN]

05: S. Briggs...........00:37:55    [M-COR BRIGADE COMMANDER]

06: E. Anderson......00:41:50    [FM MAJOR]

07: B. Cole..............00:45:10    [9TH MG CAPTAIN]

08: C. Grenier.........00:56:65    [M-COR PILOT]

09: L. Miller.............00:58:13   [M-COR PILOT]

10: S. Talon.............00:58:65   [M-COR PILOT]

 _“Most of the Marauders Corps. are in the top 10…no wonder they’re called ‘The Militia’s Finest.’  Wait-“_  
“Liera ran the gauntlet in…25…seconds…?” Jack’s mouth hung open.  
“She has a knack for the jump kit.  Damn monkey.” Tai rubbed the back of his neck, “Everyone has different strengths and weaknesses.”  
“Third place, better than most of M-COR and my superiors…better than you.” Jack laughed, “Not bad for my first attempt.”  
“Don’t get smug.” Tai chuckled, “4 seconds quicker and you would’ve had Ryan.”  
_“There goes my spotlight…”_  
                Tai put his hands on his hips, “Miss that kid…They were good together.”  
“Yeah…He was like a brother to me.” Jack sighed, “What was it Bish called them? ‘LastiRoyal?’ Something ridiculous like that?”  
“Right.  Always thought it was uncalled for.  Made the comms confusing during battle.” Tai grunted, “I’ll never forget the time Ryan asked me for permission to date your sister.”  
“He… _asked_ you?  I never heard this story.”  
                The two of them walked down the last tunnel of the Gauntlet.  
“Oh, it was legendary.  He marched straight into HQ Command on-base at Harmony. He was of formal stature. Face stern, helmet on his latch.  I thought something was wrong.  I walked to meet him right in the middle of the room.  He saluted me, and I asked, ‘What’s the issue, Pilot?’”  
“What did he say?”  
“He looked me dead in the eye, in front of everyone, and said, ‘Sir, permission to date your daughter.’”  
                Cooper burst out in a fit of laughter, “No, no. I don’t believe that.”  
“It’s true! Anderson, Cole, Briggs, Bish, hell, even Graves- they were all there.  We just looked at him, stunned.  He turned the brightest damn shade of red I’d ever seen, but he held his salute like a soldier and waited for me to answer.”  A slight chuckle escaped Tai’s chest, “When the initial shock wore off, I wrapped an arm around him, shook the nerves from him, and said, ‘How could I say no to that?’  And, well…you know the rest.”  
“That explains why you didn’t poison his food.” Jack grinned.  
“Thought about it a few times.  He was good to her, though. Fast-forward two years, and I’m still not sure if she ever got over what happened.”  
                Jack followed him outside to a bridge that extended seemingly forever, “I’m not sure if any of us have.”  
_“I know I haven’t.”_  
                Tai waved his hand, “Alright, alright. Enough of that.  We have a deadline to meet, and it’s time you learned the other half of being a Pilot – the Titan.” His finger bounced around on the keypad on his wrist before Jack had time to protest, “We’re going to need a little more space.”  
                Another light blinded them, and they reappeared on a platform in front of a lush field.  Tai sat at the edge, watching the sky intently.  
                An explosion echoed from above as a lump of fire and smoke descended upon them.  BT landed, shaking the ground and forming a crater around his large chassis.  
                Jack gulped, suppressing the memories of Angel City under siege.  
“Ah, good old BT.  Vanguards are a bunch of beauts, aren’t they?” Tai stood, stretching his back, “Homegrown Militia technology.  The first chassis we didn’t have to steal from the IMC.”  
“Thanks for the history lesson, pops.  Can we be done, now?” Jack lowered his gaze.  
“Not until you finish your Pilot training.  I want you certified- _today._ ” Tai sighed, “Go ahead, Jack.  Call in your first Titan.”  
                A keypad materialized around Jack’s wrist, “I’m not a Pilot, I’m not authorized to-“  
“It’s a simulation, son.” Tai interrupted, “It’s not the real thing.”  
“Dad, I can’t-“  
“Yes, you _can_.” Tai insisted, “We’re headed to Typhon.  Who knows how many Titans we’re going to see there?  You did great at Demeter.  You’ll do great here, too.”  
_“It’s not the real thing.  Not the real thing.”  
_ “Okay…How do I do this?” He asked.  
“Normally, you’d enter the Titan’s name.  That keypad is already primed.  All you have to do is hit the green button, and we can continue.”  
                Jack’s finger trembled as it hovered above the call button.  
_“Not the real thing.”_  
                Cooper pushed it, squeezing his eyes shut as the familiar sound crackled overhead.  
“Look up to the sky.  There he is.” Tai huffed.  
                The wisps of fire.  
                The shattering of the drop pod.  
                The crash to the ground.  
                The unfamiliar Titan opened the cockpit doors.  
_“I can do this.”  
                _ Everything froze.  
                The simulation began to stretch uncontrollably.  Harmony shattered, and the fields that were once welcoming were now disoriented blocks and pixels.

…

  
                Jack’s world went black, a string of words blinking before him:  
  
SRS SIMPOD OS V04.11B  
ROOT:$ <<SYSTEM ERROR:  LOW POWER>>

“Uh…Dad?” He asked.  
_“Powering down all non-essential systems.”_ The _MacAllan’s_ female AI reported over the speaker.    
“All right, Cooper.  Sounds like it’s about to hit the fan.  I’m pulling you out.” Tai answered.  
                Captain Cole’s voice shouted at him from outside of the pod, “Cooper!  Ready up!”  
“Easy, Cole.  He just left VR.  He needs a minute to decompress.” Tai said, “He’ll be ready to go…Trust me.”  
“Yes, sir.” Cole answered.  
_“All personnel to battle stations.”_ The radio echoed again, _“This is not a drill.”_  
                The doors of the sim pod opened, revealing a flurry of bustling Militia men and women.  Various Titans marched towards the exit of the Titan Bay.  
_“Repeat, this is not a drill.”_  
                Sirens began to blare, and Jack’s heart tripped over itself.  
                Tai remained calm, still sitting on the railing.   He twisted to hand BT his primed SERE kit, “Good session in there.  Almost got your license.”  His eyes saddened, “We’ll make a Pilot out of you yet, Jack, but not today.” _  
_ “Dad-“ Jack reached for him.   
                The Major cut in between them, gripping Tai’s hand in a strong shake, “Lastimosa!  You son of a bitch,” He wore a device strapped around his hand with a silver dial.  Jack had never seen it before, “See you down there.”  
                Tai grinned, saluting him, “Wouldn’t have it any other way, Major.”  
                After Anderson scampered off, Tai helped Jack out of the sim pod as BT opened the cockpit behind him, “We’re going to see a new planet today, maybe even die on it.  Watch your back and keep your head low, am I understood?”  
_“This is so unlike him.”  
_ “I will, dad.” Jack choked, “Let’s go get the bad guys.”  
                Tai gripped his shoulder, “Give them Hell, Cooper.” He turned to BT, using his rifle as a balance to step over the railing and into the Titan’s hand.  
                BT lowered Tai into the cockpit.  He put his Pilot’s helmet on, the visor flickering to life, “Good luck.” He gave Jack a thumb’s up.  
                Jack returned the gesture, “Good luck…”  
                Captain Cole ran in front of Jack with a rifle, throwing it at him, “Get your ass together!  Meet at the dropship!”  
                Jack caught the gun.  It felt heavy in his weighted arms.  
                He watched BT march away, his dad in his cockpit.   
                Panicked soldiers ran passed him.  
                All that could be heard was deployment and sirens.  
_“Something doesn’t feel right…”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Behind the Scenes:**   
>    
>  [Gauntlet Concept Art](https://www.artstation.com/artwork/n1EE4)   
>    
>  [The Pilot's Gauntlet on YouTube ](https://youtu.be/lWnvWbd4KGo?t=2m51s)   
>    
>  **WARNING: Stop at 9:53 to avoid spoilers.**


	10. Semper Invicta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Aut viam inveniam, aut faciam._  
>  _I shall either find a way, or make one."_  
>  -Hannibal Barca

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _ **Archive Quick Reference Guide**_  
>   
>  **A-Wall:** A Pilot-sized, invincible particle wall that is destructible only at its small, circular base. It blocks incoming shots and amps outgoing shots.  
>  **Wall-Hang:** Upon deceleration failure, an arm deploys from a Pilot's jump kit and enables anti-gravity measures, impaling any surface nearby. This feature can also be activated intentionally for tactical use. This leaves the Pilot exposed, but allows them to regain focus of their position, or brake-check any hostiles in pursuit.  
>  **Vortex Shield:** Absorbs incoming fire and redirects it back at the enemy. It is a blue force-field that emits from a Titan's palm.  
>  **Particle Wall:** Places a defensive barrier in front of a Titan that they can shoot through. Also amps outgoing shots.  
>  **Salvo Core:** Unleashes a barrage of rockets that can be guided in-flight. They'll prioritize any locked target the Titan looks at.  
>  **Flame Core:** Creates a giant wave of fire that destroys anything in its path.  
>  **Grapple:** At its most basic usage, the grapple can be used by Pilots to quickly ascend walls or reach ledges. With practice, the grapple can be used very effectively to swing around or under the attached point. The grapple can also be used to accelerate to extreme speeds. The tether is stored in a special chamber strapped to a Pilot's wrist.  
> 

* * *

* * *

                 econ Squad Gladius was closing in on the airport.  They placed themselves behind an old trading establishment, stopping to rest.  EV hovered overhead, shielding them from the light drizzle that fell from the clouds.  A heated debate warmed the frigid air as Liera tried to convince Paladin Danse to let her scout ahead.  
“It’s what I’ve been trained to do, and I move faster on my own.” She argued.  
“That kind of mentality is what led to Artemis’s demise.” Danse whispered, shielding Brandis from reprimand, “It’s too risky.”  
“Calculating risk assessment…” EV said, “Less than 1%.”  
“See?” Liera crossed her arms.  
“Your machine would say whatever it needed to if it meant letting you do what you want.” Rhys rolled his eyes.  
“Negative.” EV corrected, “Pilot Lastimosa’s 99% Combat Effectiveness Rating during SRS covert operations yields high success rates for Lone Wolf Reconnaissance.”  
                Liera smirked.  
“If we engage as a group,” Haylen started, “The Mutants would see EV a mile away, allowing them to plan a preemptive strike.  We’d be under immediate fire and wouldn’t have time to react accordingly.”  
                Danse held his helmet on the hip of his Power Armor, “Lacking proper intel _is_ what got us ambushed in the first place...”  
_“Good, he’s coming around.  Time to hit him with a solid plan of action.”_  
“I’ll move in quietly and find a good vantage point.”  Liera explained tactfully, “If I can get close enough, EV’s sonar pulse can bounce off my helmet’s antenna and tag all the Mutants in the vicinity. Then, we’ll be able to better form a strategy and assess any flanking options within the established perimeter.”  
“Alright.” Danse agreed, “But you’ll regroup with us before engaging.  Do I make myself clear, Initiate?”  
“Yes, sir.” She mumbled.  
“Outstanding.  We’ll wait for your intel before conducting the assault.” He placed his helmet on his head.  
“Good luck out there, Initiate.” Haylen smiled.  
“Thanks.”  Liera closed her visor and took off towards a pillar of scaffolding.  
                EV and the squad watched her as she jumped and grabbed a steel beam.  Liera’s foothold failed to hold her weight, and the broken bar collided with the others as it fell.  Her thrusters supported a double-jump and she caught a ledge.  
“You sure you’re cut out for this?” Rhys called out.  
                Liera pulled herself onto the roof.  
“Yeah!” She answered before breaking into a run.  
_“Not as graceful a start as I would have liked.”_  
                The tarmac stretched in the distance, framed by a row of outposts on either edge.  
                She stayed along the side facing away from the center, using the buildings as natural cover.  Liera alternated between the walls and balconies, giving her thrusters a break when she felt herself falling out of her wallrun. The bricks blurred beneath her feet.  
“Speeds reaching 41 kph.” EV wrote across her visor.  
_“Feels good to stretch my legs.”_  
                Though she hadn’t been in the Commonwealth for long, Liera found herself frustrated with the lack of height to climb. The wasteland wasn’t anywhere near as vertical as the Frontier.  
_“Why would it be? It’s not like they needed room for Titans to walk around.”  
_                 She concluded that making her way to the aviation tower would be too dangerous, and found the highest rooftop in the area. _  
_ Liera navigated her way to its side, careful to be quiet.  When her visor reported the coast was clear, she crawled on top of it, crouching behind an air duct for cover.  
“Initializing stronghold analysis.”  EV announced, “Tagging hostiles.”  
                One by one, red outlines showed up on Liera’s HUD.  
“Project the combatant positions to recon squad.” Liera kept her voice low, “Open loudspeaker.”  
                She addressed the team, “The tarmac is wide enough for EV and I to engage the Behemoth in the center.  You guys will need to stay behind the buildings to avoid getting caught in the crossfire.”  She paused, hearing a door close underneath her, “The left side of the peninsula is the most secure.  If you put your backs to the water, they’ll have a hard time getting around you.”  
                Garbled Mutant speech rose from below.  
“Danse, what do you think?” Liera asked.  
“I’d say your plan is the best chance we’ve got of making it through the assault alive.” He answered.  
“Running combat scenarios…” EV said, “WARNING: Results conclude high probability of Parameter 6 violation within set zone of armed conflict.”  
_“Of course…”_  
“Relay parameter to recon team.” Liera ordered.  
“Parameter 6: Do not target, REDACTED, civilians, protected sites- i.e. hospitals, settlements, or infrastructure assets. REDACTED.” EV complied.  
“Your Elder’s orders made the airport an asset, and using EV’s artillery against the Mutants could inflict heavy structural damage.” Liera explained before the inevitable questioning, “All I can promise is that we’ll do our best not to level the place.”  
                A roof access door swung open, and a shout came from behind her.  
“Shit.”  
                She toggled her active cloak, doubling back as fast as she could.  She leapt across the gaps in between the buildings, her heart racing beneath her vest.  
“Initiate, what happened?” Danse asked nervously.  
_“EV and I weren’t paying attention, that’s what.”_  
“A little busy!” She jumped to a lower roof, rolling to break her fall.  
                Her cloak's battery issued a warning, "ACTIVE CLOAK: RECHARGE REQUIRED."  
                Soon, Liera was visible to the Mutants around her.  Gunfire followed her footsteps as she continued to flee, “I could use some help!”  
“Auto-pilot mode engaging.” EV responded.  
                She stumbled as a bullet disrupted the pavement in front of her.  
_“Goddamn it.”  
                _ Liera dropped into a slide, fell to a fire escape, and vaulted herself through the window of the next building. As the glass shattered, she was cornered by a Super Mutant with a glowing device strapped to his chest.  
                He released a roar, and the blue lights on his harness turned red.  
“Explosive detonation imminent.” EV wrote across her HUD. _  
_ She sprinted across the room, dropping an A-Wall behind her.  The suicider’s blast pushed her through the adjacent window.  Liera’s jump kit decelerated her as it’s wallhang arm impaled the brick of an exterior wall.  It saved her, but now she was dangling and exposed.  
“ACTIVE CLOAK: RECHARGED.” Her visor told her.  
_“Can’t stop moving.”_  
                Liera engaged her holopilot, leaving it to die as she cloaked and hoisted herself to level ground.  Loose brick sprinkled the sidewalks as the Mutants opened fire on the false Pilot. _  
_                 EV shook the runway as she barreled into view.  The crushing sounds of her 40-ton sprint rushed Liera with relief.  
“Took you long enough!” She jumped to another roof.  
“Titan thrusters operate at predetermined speeds.” EV answered, “The others are in formation and flanking from the left.  They won’t get in our way.” EV caught a rocket in her vortex shield and threw it back at the Mutant who fired it, “Recommending you embark immediately.”  
“You don’t say?” Liera kicked off the ledge without hesitation, soaring over the runway.  
                EV caught her and embraced her in the cockpit.  
                A bullet ricocheted off the doors as they closed, and the ocular panels went online.  
“I think they see us!” She caught her breath as EV’s holsters encased her limbs.  
“Combat data suggests you are correct.” EV retrieved her railgun, holding it with both hands.  
                The sparks of contact highlighted her chassis as the Mutants began shooting at them.  
                EV dropped her particle wall and Liera began firing back.   
                One, two, three.  
                The railgun’s plasma shots melted the Super Mutants as they charged.   
                Four, five, six.  
 “Alright, EV! We’re on a roll!”  
                Seven, eight, nine.  
“Nuclear missile inbound.”  A green warhead floated in front of them as it was caught in another vortex. It was a foot long with a painted yellow ring around it, the tip coated in red.  
                EV returned the device to its sender, obliterating a Super Mutant troop.  A nuclear breeze blew through the airport as a massive explosion left an even bigger mushroom cloud in its wake.  
                They kept firing.  
                Ten, eleven, twelve.  
“Reloading.” EV tossed the smoking plasma casing to the ground.  
                The new one rolled from her arm’s ammunition chamber and into her hand.  
                A Mutant standing at EV’s height rounded the corner, glaring at them from the end of the tarmac.  
“Looks like we found our Behemoth.” Liera frowned.  
                It wore turbine covers around its forearms, and a pair of wings had been fastened to its shoulders.  The cabin of an airplane bent around it’s chest, completing the aerial suit of armor.  
                The beast let out a mighty war cry before breaking into a charge.  
_“Just another Titan...Right?”  
                _ She flipped a switch on the handle controlling EV’s big guns.  
“Sonar locks locked on target.” EV verified.  
“Let’s show them how we do things in the Frontier...” Liera pressed a flashing red button labeled, “SALVO CORE.”  
                Both of EV’s gimble-mounted acolyte pods extended from her shoulders.  
                Within seconds of each other, 16 missiles deployed from their respective slots.   
                Liera’s teeth clenched as the cockpit shook under the twisting barrage.  
                As the smoke began to clear, the Behemoth limped to its feet, badly injured.   
                Most of its armor had been destroyed, but the monster yet lived.  It jogged towards them, it’s right leg seemingly maimed.  
“Bastard…” Liera returned the railgun to her back, “Let’s see how he likes 2,000-degree Celsius flame jets.”  
“Initiating Flame Core.” EV responded. _  
_                 The Behemoth was gaining ground.  
“Remember when dad dealt that blow against the Ronin Titan on Fracture?” Liera asked, sweating as the cockpit began to heat up.  
“Affirmative.”  
                The Pilot chair rumbled as the thrusters kicked on, fueling EV’s sprint.  She took flight, pushing the Earth away as the Behemoth fell in her shadow.  
                Liera cocked EV's arm behind her, punching it down to meet the side of the creature’s neck.  It crashed into the runway, pushing the concrete up beneath it.  EV struggled to keep it pinned down.  
                The Behemoth pushed with colossal strength, roaring at the top of its lungs.  
                Following a chirping alarm, a diagram of EV appeared onscreen with her arms highlighted in yellow.  
“Arms sustaining heavy resistance.” EV warned.  
“Activating pilot light,” Liera pulled a lever, “Redirecting reactor vents!”  
“Flame Core: ONLINE.” EV initialized her Scorch system.  
                EV and Liera released their prisoner and used their thrusters to back-step, dodging a blow from the Behemoth stumbling to its feet.  
                Liera laced EV’s fingers together and assaulted the ground with her fist.  Fire charged ahead, engulfing the Mutant in an army of blue flames.  It let out a blood-curdling scream, writhing in pain and swinging wildly.  
                EV shot a single missile at its knee, forcing it to the ground.  It wasn’t long before it ceased to move.  
“Behemoth neutralized.” Liera and EV sprinted over the singed mound of flesh as they continued their onslaught.  
“Recon squad being overrun.” EV marked their location on the ocular display.  
                Just like the police station, Danse guarded the entrance of a reinforced building as his team fired from behind.  
                On the other side of the tarmac, the last of the occupying Super Mutants kept the Brotherhood team suppressed.  One of them stood on the roof of their base, pulling out a long, metal weapon from a crate.  
“Nuclear signatures detected.” EV warned.  
_“We’re not going to make it in time.”_  
                 Liera unbuckled her harness, “You gotta throw me.”  
“Pilot-“  
“Just do it!” She pulled her arms and legs out of EV’s holsters.   
                The cockpit doors flew open, and she repositioned herself for flight.  
                EV reached in, grabbing her small frame with one hand and pointing at the Mutant with the other, “Commencing throw.”  
                Liera’s thrusters heated her waist as she flew towards her mark. Her grapple deployed, burring itself in the Mutant and pulling her in closer.  She unlatched her pistol from her leg and aimed it at the green assailant. _  
_ The Mutant grabbed the tether, balancing the hulking weapon on his shoulder.  
_“Really should’ve thought this through.”_  
                Seeing no other option, Liera took a shot at the warhead.    
                The explosion that followed ripped the hook from the Mutant’s grasp and sent her flying towards Danse and his team.  
                She felt the radiation burning her lungs.  
                She heard her jump kit trying to save her as the building approached.  
                She saw EV dive, catching her and landing on her side.  
                EV slid to a halt and her fingers released the unharmed Pilot onto the mound of snowballed asphalt.  
“Nice one.” Liera coughed as she rolled to her stomach, pushing herself on her feet.  
                EV did the same.  
“What were you thinking?!” Danse shouted from behind them.  
“Ah, well, you see,” She brushed the dust from her suit, “I wasn’t.”  
                A pack of mutated hounds sprinted from the infernal hangar.  They moved quickly and unpredictably, and their fangs were visible from across the runway.  
                EV sliced the ground with her hand, launching a wall of fire between the hounds and the team. She swept them with her other arm, sending the pack toward their Mutant owners.  
“Nuclear missile inbound.” EV repeated, catching another warhead in her vortex’s web.  
                It whistled when she threw it back.  
                Danse grabbed Liera by the waist and pulled her to his Power Armor’s chest, turning away from the nuclear combustion.  
                EV anchored her hands on either side of Danse, shielding them against incoming debris. Liera peaked out from behind his arm to find EV’s narrowed lens only inches away from her.  
“Targets neutralized.” EV said, “H-Hull dam-ag-e, sig-nif...i..can…t…”  
                Her blue ocular light faded to black.  
                Liera clawed herself out of Danse’s protective grasp, “EV!”  
                She ran to her friend, clutching the sides of the closed cockpit, “EV, respond!”  
                EV remained silent.  
“Come on…” Liera’s voice cracked, “I can’t lose you again.”  
                The stench of the smoking battlefield clogged her nose as the repercussions of creating it began to sink in.  
“Haylen…” Danse tried to stand, falling to one knee, “She needs help.”  
                Liera turned to look at him, “Are you okay?”  
“I’m…fine.” He nodded towards the door, “Go.”  
_“I can’t leave EV…”_ She shook her head, _“Stop.  You can fix machines.  You can’t fix dead soldiers.”_  
                Without a second thought, Liera hurried through the doorway.  
“I told you _I_ wouldn’t leave _you_ , damn it.” Rhys’s eyes were wet, “Why did you have to save me?”  
                He held Haylen’s hand on her bloodstained abdomen.  
“Because we…we stick together.” She winced in pain.  
                Brandis rocked back and forth in the corner, cradling himself.    
“This is your fault.” Rhys growled at Liera, “You and that stupid fucking machine.”  
                She knelt on the other side of Haylen, “How?”  
“A piece of shrapnel did this to her, you idiot.  That barrage you fired…” His tears ran down his dirt-smudged face, “I don’t know why Danse ever trusted you.”  
                Brandis’s hands clawed the side of his head, “It’s…happening…all…o-over again.”  
“I-it…wasn’t her fault.” Haylen choked, “We didn’t…stay in c-over…”  
“Quick, sit her up.” Liera ordered.  
                She removed the med kit velcroid to her leg, looking at the red cross on the front.  She unfolded its flaps, revealing a compact set of tools and supplies.  
“Don’t you fucking touch her.” Rhys growled, “You’ve done enough already.”  
“Get yourself together and help me treat her.”  Liera snapped a pair of surgical gloves over her currently equipped set, “You can tell me how much of a piece of shit I am later.”  
_“I almost failed medical training...Jack, why aren’t you here?”  
_ “Hold her still.” Liera withdrew a Militia-labeled cylinder with a trigger on the end of it.  
“What are you doing?” He asked.  
“It’s a Pilot-grade stim.  It’ll help stop the bleeding and get air into her lungs.” She answered.  
“What’s in it?”  
                Liera shrugged, “No clue. Saved my life once upon a time, though.  Hoping it does the same for her.”  
“Are you kidding me?” He growled.  
“Do I look like a doctor to you?”  
                Haylen cried out in pain.  
“Just do it.” He said.  
                She stuck Haylen with the needle, injecting her with the miracle drug.  Haylen seemed to relax a little.  
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Liera smiled at her, “You’re going to be alright.  I’ve got you.”  
**“I’ve got you, sis.”  Jack grunted.  
                He ripped a piece of gauze with his teeth, wrapping it around her bleeding limbs-**  
“We need to check for an exit wound.  Help me take her vest off.” She ignored the memory that flashed in front of her.  
Rhys leaned Haylen forward just enough to shrug her armor from her shoulders.  
“No exit wound.” She shook her head, “That’s good news.”  
“’Good news?’  That shit is still inside of her?” Rhys asked.  
“Maybe.  The vest probably saved her life.” Liera whispered, “Either way, her chances of bleeding out just got cut in half.”  
                Haylen’s teeth grit, “She’s right.”  
“Try not to talk, Haylen…” Liera retrieved a small plastic bottle, “This is saline.  It’s going to help sterilize whatever is going on down there.  Are you ready?”  
                Haylen nodded briefly in response.  
                The water trickled onto her bare skin, irrigating the wound that was trying to kill her.  
“How-“ Danse winced, “How is she doing?” His elbow supported him on the doorframe, having left his Power Armor.  
                It sat outside next to EV like two underpowered robot friends.  
“She’s doing great.” Liera assured.  
                Haylen smiled, her lips quivering.  
“I’m going to wrap you up.” Liera said.   
                She pressed a freshly opened sterile pad to her wound, and began unwinding a gauze roll.  
                A piece of medical tape held the loose end in place.  
“That should slow the bleeding down even more.” She frowned, “I’m…I’m sorry…”  
“It was our fault.” Haylen repeated, her stomach clenching.  
                The red stain on the gauze widened.  
“Sh…” Rhys consoled, “Don’t talk.”  
                Liera pulled a medicine bottle from a pouch on her belt, twisting the cap and removing two tablets.  She handed them to Rhys, “Dissolvable pain killers.  Put them on her tongue.”  
                He nodded, accepting the medication.  
                Haylen opened her mouth as he did as instructed, supporting her neck with his hand.  
                Liera removed the bloody latex and gathered her first aid kit, walking across the room and kneeling next to Danse.  He sat underneath the window, giving her ample light to work.  
                Without saying anything, she handed him a pill before taking one herself, saving the last one in her pocket.  
                He accepted it graciously, popping it in his mouth.  
“Which leg?” Liera asked.  
                He patted his left limb, “This one, ‘doc.’”  
“I’m no doctor.” She huffed, “This is all my fault…”  
“You did the right thing.” He grimaced, “We weren’t where we should’ve been.  Mirelurks forced us off course.”  
“You told me not to engage.  You told me not to ‘fly solo,’ not to be reckless, and I-“    
“Did what you had to do for the Brotherhood.”  Danse interrupted, “I would have preferred half the airport not getting blown up, however.”  
“Look, I just…” She gulped, wanting to change the subject, “I’m going to roll your pantleg up.”  
“Have at it.” He offered.  
                Liera’s fingers curled around the orange fabric, lifting it out of his boot.   
                She was startled when Danse gripped her shoulder, his face twisting in pain.  
“Where does it hurt?” She asked shakily.  
“My knee…I felt it pop after the explosion.” He panted.  
 “About that...” She looked up at him, “Thanks for, uh…Protecting me, I guess.”  
                She felt her ears get hot as she pulled his pant leg up around his thigh, bunching it over his thick, straining muscles.  
“Don’t mention it.” Danse sighed, “I’m…Sorry, about EV.  Will you be able to get her up and running?”  
                Liera pressed her thumbs gently against the swollen, bruised area.  Her eyes squeezed shut as his grip tightened on her shoulder, “I should be able to.  It’s been awhile since I’ve had to break out the manual, though.  Can’t remember the last time I read a book.”  
                Nothing felt out of place as she poked at his injury.  
_“Just a bad sprain, probably.”  
_ “I thought you said you helped build her- why would you need a manual?” He asked.  
“Danse,” She grinned, “That was _years_ ago.  We’ve made so many improvements since then, and honestly, I have no idea how her computer system works.” Liera ripped open a roll of elastic medical wrap with her teeth, “So yeah, against my better judgement, I’m gonna’ have to follow the instructions.”  
                Danse’s back arched as she began to wrap the swollen area.  His grip slipped to her bicep, making it harder for her to work.  She didn’t mind, though.  
                After securing the end with a metal pin, Liera opened a small, silver square from her kit and started to shake it.  
                When it’s surface became frosty, she set it on his sprain, prying his hand off her and guiding it down to the pack, “Hold this here.”  
                Danse’s hand twitched underneath hers, and she quickly let go.  
“Thank you.” He coughed, “For everything.”  
                Liera sat down and crossed her legs, “I fucked this all up…”  
“Don’t make me repeat myself,” His face crinkled as he straightened himself against the wall, “I’m not in the mood.”  
“Paladin,” Rhys spoke, Haylen resting against his chest, “How are we going to contact Elder Maxson with the machine offline?”  
                Danse’s gaze lingered on his ice pack, “We can’t.”  
“I’ll get to work.” Liera stood, eager to leave them.  
“You should hurry,” Rhys looked down at the woman drifting asleep in his arms, “I don’t think she has much time…”  
_“And losing someone you love sucks.”  
_ “Count on it.” She walked outside, staring up at the setting sun.  
                The clouds were pink and orange, and the sky was bluer than it had been before, despite the smoke stacks that threatened to hide it.  
                EV was stuck in the same position she’d left her in.  The only sign of viability coming from the Titan was the flashing light on her chest, reading, “EMERGENCY ASSISTANCE REQUIRED.”  
                Liera walked to the maintenance panel, unscrewing it with the blade of her survival knife.  She stowed the screws in a pocket, careful not to drop them.  
                The panel came loose, and leaned it against EV’s foot.  
                A dusty manual with the title, “Titan Field Repair: Survival Edition,” lay in the chamber with a silver canister, blow torch, soldering kit, and a simple toolbox.  Liera removed the items, setting them out in her workspace.  She clicked the flashlight that was attached to her collar, turning it on and leaning down to open the book to the table of contents.  
_“Alright.  It’s your turn, EV.”_ She sighed, _“Time to fix myself a Titan.”_

…

 _“Troubleshooting Guide 217: ASRG (Advanced Stirling Radioisotope Generator) Repair Guide.  Low on supplies out in the Frontier? Titan not working the way you need it to? After following the aforementioned guides, follow these simple steps to-“  
_                 Liera sighed, rubbing her eyes.  
_“’Simple,’ my ass.”  
_                 She was latched to EV’s back, her feet resting on the edge of her railgun.  Her legs cramped from being stuck in the position for hours.  
                The manual was balanced in between EV’s shoulders, and Liera’s flashlight highlighted the pages in blue.  Night had fallen, and despite signs of progress like certain indicators turning back on, EV was still inoperable.  
_“Okay, Liera.  Now isn’t the time to be sad.  Not the time to freak out.  Not the time to throw a temper tantrum.”_ She took a deep breath, _“Fix. Your. Friend.”  
_                 She shut her visor, shielding her eyes from the blowtorch, and followed the diagram in front of her.

…

                Clank.  
 “Shit! Ugh.”  
                Thump.  
“Fucking wrench…”  
                Danse blinked rapidly as he woke up, the blurry room focusing itself.  His leg had been propped on a stool, something he didn’t remember happening.  He was slumped against the wall under the window, and the door to the building was shut to his right.  Across the room, Rhys still held Haylen as they slept.  
_“Rhys assured me there was nothing between them…No, she’s dying.  This isn’t about that.”  
_                 Haylen.  
                Dying.  
                Danse sighed.  
                Liera went into a coughing fit outside. _  
_ He twisted his screaming back, ungrateful for the position he’d been left in. He looked outside, the nighttime dawning on him.  
_“What is she still doing awake? She must have been at it for hours by now.”  
                _ Even Brandis was asleep, the utterings of a madman still escaping his chest.  
                Danse lifted himself from the ground, reaching for the windowsill.  Balancing on his good leg, he managed to stand up.  He leaned over to pick up the ice pack, surprised it was still cold.  
_“Must be a chemical compound of some sort.”_  
                Bracing himself against the wall, he cursed his injured knee as it buckled under his weight.  He held in a yelp, placing the ice on it immediately.  
_“How in the Hell did this happen…”  
                _ Liera was discovered during her solo reconnaissance mission, sacrificing their element of surprise for knowledge of their enemy’s position.  
_“Would it have mattered, though?”_  
                The Mutants would’ve seen EV, and the assault would have been the same.  The Mirelurks would have still been hiding underneath the mud.  The squad would have still been forced to move between the outposts, putting themselves in harm’s way.  The initial barrage against the Behemoth would have still been fired, sending a smoldering chunk of airplane “armor” at Rhys.  And Haylen would have still pushed him out of the way, claiming the blow for herself.  
_“It wasn’t just her fault.  It was a poor situation to be in, overall.”_  
                Danse grabbed the doorknob, using it as a crutch as he turned it.  Hobbling through the doorway, he eyed up the railing lining the porch and wondered if he could get to it.  
“What are you doing up and about?” Liera asked.  
                He shielded his eyes from the blue light that came from somewhere around her neck.  
“Oh, sorry.” She clicked it off.  
                The floating sunspot made it hard for his eyes to adjust to the moonlight.  
                He heard footsteps walking across the dirt, and then on the wooden deck.  
“Let me help you back inside.”  
“No,” Danse’s throat was dry, “It’s not safe out here at night, especially without anyone watching your back.  You need to get some rest, soldier.”  
“No can do, sir.  We need EV up and running, and I’m going to make it happen.”  Liera put her hands on her hips and looked at the Titan, “We’re sitting ducks out here and we need to get ahold of Maxson.”  
“Fine.” Danse grunted, “But I’m staying out here until you do.  There’s a plethora of things that could sneak up on you.”  
                She snickered, “Yeah…like Super Mutants…”  
“Enough.” He growled, “The blame isn’t on you, alone.”  
“You don’t understand.” Liera stared at him, “I’m better than that.  _We_ are better than that…”  
                Danse remembered how he felt when he addressed Maxson.  
_“I shouldn’t be so short with her.  I know how she’s feeling right now.”  
_ “You learn from your mistakes, and you move on.”  He consoled.  
“That’s my problem, I never seem to learn.” She mumbled, “Come on, let’s get you off that leg if you’re hellbent on not staying put.”  
                Liera lifted his arm and draped it over her shoulders, and he felt her hand on his waist.  He leaned into her, nervous his weight would send them toppling.  She was strong, and supported him as he limped to the edge of the porch.  
“Watch your step.  One at a time.” She warned as they approached the stairs.  
                Together, they took the first step.  
                He hissed as his knee failed.  Liera placed her hand on his chest and caught him.  He felt her muscles strain to keep him upright.  
“Whoa there, big guy.” She giggled, “Easy.”  
“You're starting to sound like Haylen…”  
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” She stepped down ahead of him, “One more.”  
                He followed, using the railing and her assistance to maintain posture.  
                Liera guided him to a bench across from EV.  The wood creaked as she lowered him on to it.  
                She lifted his injured leg, ignoring his silent, painful protest.  She propped it up on the arm rest at his feet, “You need to keep this elevated.”  
                He nodded, placing the icepack on his injured knee.  
                Liera reached into a pouch on her leg, pulling something out of it.  A crack broke the air, and a glow stick gave off a soft light.  
                Oil and grime smudged her face and neck, and her hair was slicked back out of the way.  Her helmet was strapped to her jump kit, dangling from what looked to be a hook designed for holding it.   Bloodstains and singe marks marked her suit.  
“How are _you_ feeling?” He asked.  
                Liera smirked, “I’ll feel a lot better once EV is operational.”  
                She rocked the stick back and forth until it gained its full illumination.  Her sunken, tired eyes trailed it as she dropped it on his lap.  Liera reached around her, pulling her rifle from its horizontal holster.  She cocked it back, and handed it to him, “It’s not a fancy laser gun, but it’ll put down anything that moves.”  
_“She’s…giving me her rifle?  With her Titan offline?”  
_ “Just don’t shoot me.” She winked at him.  
                Danse swallowed as he gripped the weapon, “I won’t.”  
“I know.” She smiled meekly, “Sorry if I woke you up, by the way.  I dropped my wrench.”  
“It’s fine.” He answered, putting the stock of the gun to his armpit, “I wouldn’t want you out here by yourself, anyway.”  
“I appreciate it.” She admitted, looking at the wrench in her hand, “Alright.  Back to work.”  
                Liera put the handle between her teeth, turning to EV and clicking her blue light on.  She gave herself a jogging start, and her jump kit pushed her higher as she leapt onto her Titan.  She landed above EV’s leg, and climbed the rest of the way.  
_“A Pilot and Titan,”_ He grunted, _“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to seeing such a mutual respect between man and machine.”  
_                 Danse looked at the rifle in his hands.  It seemed to be a normal ballistics weapon from afar, but up close, he could tell it was made of advanced design.  A holographic display sat on the closest end of the barrel, telling him how many bullets were left in the clip.  Another holograph was mounted on the other end, showing the sights of the gun.  It was light but sturdy, and he could tell it was built to enforce some serious stopping power.  
                The sound of a torch interrupted his observation.  He looked up to see sparks falling from EV’s side, and a blue visor working diligently behind them.  The night sky stretched above them, the stars shining down like pinholes pricked in a black curtain.  
_“No, I’ll never get used to it, but maybe I can learn to accept it. I can only hope Elder Maxson shares the same sentiment.”_  
                Danse pulled himself from his distractions, and commenced his watch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Reader:
> 
> Thank you again for reading!


	11. Tradecraft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Anybody who has not taken the Oath of Fraternity is suspicious to us._  
>  _The Codex says: 'Fear those who do not pledge to the Brotherhood, for though their eyes may be opened through service, they are now blind.'_  
>  _But it also tells us, 'Give way your suspicions to the wisdom of thine Elder. Where he shows trust, so shall you.'"_  
>  -Arthur Maxson

* * *

* * *

 

                iera tightened the last bolt, securing the cover of the battery well.  
                The night was stubborn, withholding anything that would make her task easier…like light.  
                Warmth.  
_“So fucking tired.”  
                _ She tossed the manual to the ground and secured the toolbox to the latch on her hip.  
                Climbing down EV’s railgun, Liera noted the busted piping.  
_“Probably inoperable.”_  
                It would have to wait.  
                Her feet hit the ground, and her knees would have buckled if they weren’t reinforced.  
                She marched to the front of the cockpit, and slammed her fist against a restart button.  
                Blue lights wound up the sides of EV, connecting to her ocular hub.  
“That looks promising.” Danse yawned.  
                Liera held her breath.  
                EV’s eyeball turned, looking around.   
                And then all the lights went red.  
                EV faded into another stasis.  
“God fucking-“ Liera ripped her helmet off, “What am I missing?”  
                She threw it on the ground, putting her hands on her hips as it rolled next to Danse, “She’s getting power, but…” Liera pinched the bridge of her nose, “She’s stuck in there, somewhere.  Lost.  Files probably corrupted.” She snapped her fingers, “Oh, maybe I could-“  
“Take a break. You’ve been at this for over 6 hours.” Danse said, leaning over to pick up the Pilots’ helmet.  
“We’re running out of time.” Liera shot.  
“I didn’t say it had to be a long one.” His brows creased.  
“Yeah…” Liera flipped a pocket on her vest, pulling out a silver cigarette case.  She put a wrapped stick to her lips before returning the compact under the flap of her suit.  She searched the pockets lining her waist for a lighter before sparking it, blowing a stream of smoke in front of her.  
“That’s an unhealthy habit.” Danse frowned.  
“Pilot training alone comes with a 98% mortality rate.  I’ll take my chances.” Liera walked to the bench and plopped on the ground, pushing her back against the iron-rod support.  
                She rested the back of her head on a wooden plank next to Danse’s leg.  
                Danse returned her helmet.  
“Thanks.” Liera muttered.  
“Mhm.”  
                She put one elbow up next to him, her helmet supporting the other, “I lost her once, before. Her original chassis, that is.”  
                The two of them watched the stuck machine.  
“How?” Danse asked, “You two seem unstoppable.”  
“Doing what I do best.  Being Maverick instead of Liera.  Ignoring protocol to uphold the mission.”  She ashed her cigarette, “We were losing ground. Briggs told us to pull back, but we didn’t.  Found ourselves outnumbered 4 to 1.  We lost.  I was able to recover EV’s GPU, and we plugged it in a new Vanguard chassis after Demeter like it never happened.”  
                The cigarette heated Liera’s fingers at her pull.  Smoke filled her lungs, “All my life, I’ve been given a pass. ‘You did what you had to do.’ ‘You were just following orders.’  ‘They knew the risks.’ I’m not sure if it was because my superiors meant it, or if it was because I grew up a Captain’s daughter, but their constant excuses made me reckless.  For once, I’d like to be held accountable, to be told that what I did was _wrong_ …”  She shook her head, “I don’t ever learn from my mistakes, because in the end, they’re justified by war _._ Just like the IMC.  That’s how they-” Liera rubbed the back of her neck, “Sorry.  I don’t know why I’m unloading on you.”  
“Don’t apologize.”  Danse consoled, “War never changes.  Not here, not in the Frontier, or anywhere else.  The sooner you come to terms with that and stop beating yourself up, the better off you’ll be.”  He paused, “‘War tempers the strong and breaks the weak,’ after all.”  
                Liera cracked a smile, “Hmph.  Guess I suck at taking my own advice, too.”  
                The smoke drifted lazily above them as the flame met the filter she clutched.  
                She flicked it into the night and pushed herself to her feet, “Time to get back to work.  Thanks for the talk.”  
“Anytime.” Danse smirked.  
                Liera put her helmet back on, and a flashing icon caught her attention.  
                She tapped the side of it.  
_“Come on, you annoying piece of shit.  Knock it off.”  
_ “DISTRESS BEACON: RESYNC REQUIRED.”  
_“Wait…that means-“  
_ “Danse.”  
                He perked up as she turned to him.  
“I have an idea...” Liera’s glove caught the floating icon behind her screen, scrolling through her contact history.  
                She imagined what she must look like to him with her hand waving in the air, seemingly at nothing.  
“Care to explain?” Danse asked.  
“Hold on.”  
_“Libertalia...there it is.”_  
                Liera clicked the link, “Initialize manual signal launch_?”  
                The scrolling words were the ones she’d been hoping for.  
“Alright, so, I’ve got good news for a change. EV is still MIA, but she’s got power, and I’ve got my helmet.  I can manually push the signal to Maxson.”  
                Danse’s eyes widen.  
                There was something about the look on his face that enlightened her.  
“Ready to call the boss?” Liera asked.  
“Yes.” He answered eagerly, “Yes, please.”  
                She wasn’t excited to hear from the Elder again, but it didn’t matter.  
                They were getting Haylen the hell out of there.  
                Alive.  
“Here goes nothing.” She hit the call button.  
“Connecting…  
Waiting for response…  
Connection established.”  
                Liera looked to her forearm, sliding the cover from the gauntlet that was strapped to it.  A line squiggled, and she dialed a nob until it was flat.  
“Paladin Danse?” Maxson screeched.  
                The line moved at the sound of his voice.  
“Gladius reporting in, sir.” Danse watched Liera as he addressed his commanding officer.  
                She found his gaze rather calming.  
“Is the airport secure?” Maxson asked.  
“Secured, with...heavy damage accrued.” Danse responded.  
                Liera looked away, now embarrassed.  
“The important part is that we’ll have a new base of operations aside from the police station.  We’ll need the extra room.”  They heard Maxson’s flip-lighter spark, “I knew I could count on you to get the job done, Paladin.  Outstanding work.  We will deploy from the Citadel and should arrive in the Commonwealth within the next two hours.”  
“Understood.” Danse said, “Arthur, Haylen is in critical condition-“  
“There will be a plethora of resources at our disposal to assist Scribe Haylen and the rest of your squadron.”  Maxson coughed, “Speaking of your team, is the Initiate still with you?”  
“…She is.” Danse mumbled.  
“May I speak with her?”  
                Liera sighed, staring at EV.  
_“Now would be a wonderful time for you to miraculously wake up.”_  
                Danse nudged her leg with his elbow.  
“Alright, alright…” Liera whispered, “This is Pilot…” She cleared her throat, “ _Initiate_ Liera Lastimosa.  A pleasure, Elder Maxson.”  
“Indeed.” He answered, “I have peculiar reports coming out of the Commonwealth.  Something about a woman and a colossal machine traveling with my dispatched recon team.  That wouldn’t happen to be you, would it?”  
_“Would you believe me if I said, ‘No?’”_  
                She looked to Danse, who gave her a reassuring nod.  
_“Nope. Not us. Wrong pair.”_  
“It…it is.” Liera said.  
“They told me you put on quite the display, assisting them at the airport.  Is that also true?”  
                Her heart skipped, “That’s one way to put it, sure.”  
“I suppose I owe you my thanks, then.  I’ll make sure to do so properly when the _Prydwen_ arrives.”  
“The _Prydwen_?” Danse asked, “You’re bringing Her here?”  
“Yes.” Maxson smoked, “Is something amiss, Paladin?”  
“No.” Danse went pale, “We’ll see you soon.”  
“You will.  Our mission has only just begun.  We cannot allow the Super Mutants to stockpile nuclear artillery, or the Synth _disease_ to spread any farther.” Something clanked against what Liera believed to be an ashtray, “Ad Victoriam, Brother.”  
                The transmission ended.  
                Liera shut her gauntlet, “So, uh…Prydwen.  Not so good news?”  
“She’s our flagship.  She’s loaded with enough troops and supplies to mount a major offensive.” Danse sighed, “And if Elder Maxson is bringing Her here, that means we’re going to war…and he’ll be leading the charge.”  
                Liera remained quiet.  
_“Reports…Who’s giving Maxson reports?  Before I met Danse and his team, sure.  They may have had the ability to get him information. But how did Maxson know about the Mutants? The Institute? The battle at the airport? Wouldn’t he have already known we were successful?”_  
“Initiate?”  
_“And if he has agents posted up somewhere, why the fuck didn’t they help us?”  
                _ She shuddered, remembering the massive kill shots in the Mutants at the satellite array.  
_“That mother fucker has been watching us the whole time.  Rather, someone’s been watching us_ for _him.  I’m not sure which one is worse.”_  
“Liera.” Danse snatched her focus, “What’s wrong?”  
“If Maxson had people reporting to him from within the Commonwealth, why weren’t they with us?  Helping us?” She snapped, more angrily than intended. _  
_ “I don’t know.” He answered honestly, “Diamond City radio broadcasts throughout the northeast.  Word of mouth travels fast, especially with Piper writing for Publick Occurrences. Perhaps that’s what he meant…” He ran his fingers through his thick, black hair, “I hope that answer is good enough to sate your troubles.”  
_“And what about those reinforcements he promised us at the police station?  Something is off with this guy.  Great.”_  
“Sure…” Liera’s gut told her that Danse was wrong.  
                Very wrong.

…

 _“Who else is reporting to him?”  
                _ The question had been burning at Danse.  He lifted his chin, sundering his daze within the orange glow resting on his lap, and watched Liera repair the Titan.  
                She continued to prod it with gadgets that he didn’t even know how to ask what they did. _  
_                 Liera worked tirelessly on thick wires below the cockpit.  She laid on her back, and he imagined how sore she must’ve been. _  
“She’s barely spoken since Maxson’s announcement. She’s scared.  I could see it in her body language…All she’s done is help us, and I-“  
_                 Liera let out a few deep-chested coughs. _  
_ “Radiation still getting to you?” Danse asked.  
“Yeah, and these soldering fumes…” She groaned, “They’re foul.”  
“Didn’t I tell you to _limit_ your radiation exposure?” He frowned.  
“Those warheads blowing up probably didn’t help.” She mumbled, “I absorb radiation from EV’s cores and have been to some radiated planets in the Frontier, but Earth’s atmosphere?  Sometimes I can feel my skin crawl.”  
“Which is why you should be inside.” He lectured, “It might seem ridiculous, but shelter _does_ help.”  
“I can’t leave her out here, all broken…” Liera sighed, “She doesn’t like not being able to move around.  She’s terrified.”  
“She…feels things?” Danse asked.  
_“A machine?  With feelings?”_  
“EV feels a range of emotions.  It might not be the same as you or I, but they’re there.  And right now, she’s scared.  Scared for those at home.  Scared of this place.  Scared of not being able to function.  Scared of the Elder…”  
                EV’s ocular hub flickered silently, as if acknowledging her words as true.  
                Liera patted the side of the metal beast, “Don’t worry.  I won’t let anything happen to you.”  
_“That Titan is like an oversized Synth. But what about the Pilot?”_  
“How do you know?” Danse asked.  
“Know what?”  
“What she’s feeling?”  
“Ah.  I guess the easiest way to explain it is…” Liera continued to work, “A Pilot and a Titan share a Neural Link.  She’s hardwired into my brain.  It’s not like she can read my thoughts or anything, it’s just…I don’t know, it’s hard to put into words.”  
“Is that what that thing is on your head?”  
                Liera froze, “No.”  
                Danse decided not to prod, “And she’s stuck in there, you say?”  
“It’s like she doesn’t know what to do, where to go.” She explained, “I just have to pave the way.  Does that make sense?”  
“It doesn’t answer my previous question, but I suppose.” He balanced the rifle in his palms, “Not that any of this actually makes sense.”  
                Liera laughed unexpectedly, “Well, join the Militia and I’ll have clearance to tell you _almost_ everything.”  
“Not likely." He said.  
“Oh, I see how it is.” She teased, “I had to join the Brotherhood to get into the police station, but _you’re_ too good for that kind of compromise.”  
“That was different.” Danse felt his face get hot.  
“Ehhhh, I don’t think it was _that_ different.” She said.  
“Shouldn’t you be focusing on fixing EV?” He rebutted.  
_“And less time confusing me?”_  
“Yeeup.” She snickered, letting him off the hook.

…

                Liera’s eyes fluttered, and she almost dropped the smoldering tip of her soldering tool on herself.  
_“I wonder how many safety protocols I’m breaking right now…”  
                _ She yawned. _  
“Almost got it…”_  
                The manual rested to her left, and her neck grew sore from looking at it.  
_“EV could have got stuck in a more convenient position.”_  
                The last two connectors met, and the dashboard underneath the cockpit lit up.  The data knife’s projection spun crazily in a mess of binary.  
“Defragmentation initialized.” Her helmet decoded.  
                Liera’s elbows collided with the ground as she exhaled, “Finally.”  
                She threw her tools in the toolbox in a disorganized fashion, moving it away with the rest of her supplies.   She shakily pulled herself out from under EV as the tiredness of working through the night began to set in.  Her back was on fire, her neck wouldn’t turn the whole way, and her legs raged at any indication of movement.  
                Liera scolded as her helmet hit her jump kit.  She’d taken it off before laying down, and forgot it was there.   
                She was tired.  
                Hungry.  
                Thirsty.  
                Angry.  
                Sad.  
                Determined.  
_“No time for a mental breakdown.”_  
“Just have to wait for the system defrag to finish.” Liera picked herself up, “Hopefully that'll be enough for EV to put herself back together.”  
                Danse yawned, “How long will it take?”  
“Depends how bad it is.” She put the toolbox and manual back in their proper storage unit, and began screwing it shut, “How’s your knee holding up?”  
“Better.” He lifted the soggy freeze pack, “The throbbing went away.”  
“That’s good. With a proper night’s rest, you’ll feel even better.” She sat on EV’s foot, facing him, “I’m not sleeping until she’s done.  I’ll take watch.”  
                Liera extended her hands, and Danse returned her rifle to her.  
_“Hello, Hemlok friend.”_  
“As welcoming as that sounds, there's actually something I'd like to discuss with you.” Danse shifted, “Well, if you feel up to it.”  
“Is this where you kick me out of the Brotherhood?” Liera eyed her weapon.  
“No.  This isn't a formal subject. I...Simply wanted to clear the air.”  He massaged his knee, “And it seems we have a bit of time at our disposal.”  
_“Half asleep.  Sore. In poor health. Why not have a serious conversation?”  
_ “Splendid.” Liera was relieved, “Go for it.”  
                Danse’s hard lips twitched, “I just…I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot when we first met and I feel like I owe you an apology.”  
“You? Owe _me_ an apology?  Hah.” Liera smirked beneath her open visor, “I think you’ve got that backwards.”  
“This isn’t about what happened here.  What I mean is…” Danse crossed his arms, “Expecting you to embrace the standards of the Brotherhood without having a history with us was unfair.  And given that you adjusted and performed so well…I don't think I needed to push so hard.”  
_“It’s cute when you squirm, tough guy.”_  
                Liera mischievously lifted her eyes to his, “Did it hurt to say that?”  
“A little bit, yes.” Danse huffed.  
                She cracked her neck, “I showed up with a machine that’s twenty feet tall.  You don’t need to apologize for being mistrusting…Just means you’re smart.”  
“Allow me to explain.  It would make this easier.” Danse carefully lowered his legs off the bench, “When I was an Initiate, my sponsor was Paladin Krieg. Toughest squad leader I ever served with.” His fist tightened, “He was a model soldier, embodying the values every trainee was striving to achieve. Fiercely loyal, secure in his beliefs and brave to a fault.”  
“Sounds like a certain someone I know.” Liera winked.  
“Thank you.  I try to be him, or anything _like_ him.” Danse sighed, “From the moment I was assigned to his squad I was singled out…It felt like he was pushing me harder than the rest of the team.  I fought by his side for years and we had some seriously close calls, but he never explained to me why I was treated that way.”  
                Liera rolled her left shoulder, “When it comes to my experience with hard-ass superiors, they usually have…Noble, intentions.”  
“If he did, I never got a chance to ask.”  Danse took a trembling breath, “After I was promoted to Paladin and I had moved on to my own squad, I received word that Krieg was killed at a place called Adams Air Force Base.”  
                Liera fidgeted uncomfortably, “I’m sorry to hear that.  I’m sure he’d be proud of you.”  
“He wasn’t really…’ _proud’_ of any of us. Still…The news was like being kicked in the stomach. I mean, I'd lost some of my Brothers and Sisters before, but his death...Well, it really got to me.”  He admitted, holding his hands up to pause Liera’s solemn expression, “Look, I’m not trying to burden you with more problems than you’re already dealing with.  What I’m trying to say is that I think the reason Krieg was so tough on me is the same reason I’ve been so tough on you.”  
“What do you mean?” She asked.  
“I believe in you, and your mission.  You’re doing an honorable thing, coming out here for the sake of a planet that you, nor your people, have even visited before.  I don’t want to see your potential, or the efforts of the Militia, go to waste.” Danse remained fixated on her, as if waiting for her to clear the tension that stifled the space between them.  
“Danse, I…” Liera’s focus returned to her rifle, “I don’t know what to say.”  
“You don’t have to say anything. I said what I had to say, and I hope that meant something to you.”  
“It does.” Liera smiled sweetly, “It means a lot, actually.”  
                Her heart stammered.  
“I...Trust you'll keep all of this in confidence, of course. Some of that information was of a personal nature, and well, I'd like to keep it that way.”  Danse clasped his hands, leaning forward on his thighs.  
“I think I can keep a secret.” Liera chuckled, “So, there’s a heart beating under all that armor after all.”  
                He laughed, “I suppose I deserve that. I just don't normally find these discussions easy to handle, so I try to avoid them at all costs.”  
“I understand the feeling.” She smirked, “Dad was always the emotional one.”  
_“Always made things awkward.”_  
“You two seem close.” Danse observed.  
“We are.  And my brother.  They’re idiots, but I love them.” Liera squeezed the stock tighter, “I worry about them…Broadsword was slated as a high-risk operation.  Too many gaps in the data.”  She paused, “Don’t get me wrong, Grenier and the other M-COR agents are SRS to the bone, and damn good at what they do.  I trust their word if they say they found something the Militia couldn’t wait on.”  
_“Even if I wish I could’ve helped…”  
                _ Liera sparked another cigarette.  Her hands returned to her gun as it dangled from her mouth.  
                Danse waved the smoke from his face, “If any of them are half as tough as you are, I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”  
“Thanks…” Her eyes followed the thick plume until she focused on the milky galaxy above them, “It’s hard to believe they’re up there, isn’t it?”  
                He looked to the glittering ceiling above them, “If you’re truly asking, I’d say ‘hard to believe,’ is an understatement.”  
“Yeah, well, I didn’t expect to find you guys down here, either.” She shrugged.  
                Liera took the cigarette between her fingers, inhaling as studied the flickering heavens, “Out of all the time I’ve spent traveling through the stars, I don’t think I’ve ever taken a moment to appreciate them.”  
_“I wonder if we could see Harmony from here?  Not likely, but…”  
_                 The thought of her family watching over her brought her comfort.  
                She missed them.  The Militia.  Her own bed.  The scratchy blanket that left marks on her legs. The shitty light that rattled in the middle of their quarters as Titans marched through the clearing outside the door. The uncomfortable sweat that accumulated on her neck when Dusty curled up against it.  Jack’s snoring that repeatedly woke her up.  Tai’s mumbles in the room down the hall.   
                She missed home.  
_“I wonder what they’re doing right now?”  
_                 Moving in on Typhon, launching an assault without her watching their backs.  
_“Probably for the better.  More order on the field. Less families for Graves to write his condolences to.”_  
 “Humans aren’t as easily replaced as machines, huh?” Liera blurted.  
 “No…No, they’re not.” Danse agreed.  
                She took another drag of her cigarette.  
“Have _you_ ever…Lost someone close to you?” He asked quietly.  
                Liera tensed, “Yeah.”  
“Were they _your_ superior?”  
“No.” She exhaled before continuing, “He was an ex-IMC Pilot who joined the Militia after seeing what they were _really_ doing to the refugees in the Frontier. We were the same age when he defected.”  She huffed, “Didn’t trust him for shit at first, but…I had just been granted my Pilot License, and he had a lot of field experience that I didn’t.  He taught me a few things, and in return, I helped integrate him.  Ryan and I were inseparable by the time both of us were assigned to the Marauders…” Liera took another puff, “And we were romantically involved for two years before the refueling raid you heard in the recording.”  
                Danse was taken off guard, “Pardon me if this comes across as insensitive, but…The Militia allowed fraternization within their ranks?”  
“After a mountain of paperwork and permission from Brigade Commander Briggs, they did.  The only complication was that my father was his executive officer, and…Well, they got along, eventually.” Liera stared at the cherry burning between her fingertips, “Being with someone and fighting alongside them doesn’t change the fact that you’re working towards something much larger than the both of you.  The Militia recognized that.  Still does.”  
“Fair enough.” Danse nodded, “I’m sure it made it harder to cope with your loss, however.”  
                Another stream of nicotine infused with regret left her mouth, “The hardest part of it all was watching him die securing the area for my medevac after EV went offline.”  
“I’m sorry to hear that.” He said.  
                Liera let out a dark laugh, “Me too.  Even after two years, I’m not sure if I can ever forgive myself.”  
_“Fuck, I miss him too.”_  
                She tossed her cigarette to the side, “Any who, you should go in and get some sleep while you can.”  
“I’ll rest for a bit.” Danse laid back down, “But I told you I wasn’t going back inside until you were done.”  
“Suit yourself,” She said, leaning back on EV’s leg, “It’s going to be a long, long night.”  
                Liera’s Hemlok laid staunchly across on her lap.  
_“And maybe an even longer morning.”_

…

                The sky had started to shift as the darkness peeled back, revealing layers of orange, red, and yellow above them.  
                Liera closed her visor after uploading her new Pilot’s Log to the Militia’s Galaxynet servers.  The defrag had failed, and she wanted to leave evidence of Gladius’s innocence in all this if things went south.  
                The Brotherhood wouldn’t like what came next.  
_“I probably should’ve made a video for authenticity’s sake, but…I haven’t been able to charge my helmet in a few hours_.  _Can’t risk communication blackout.”_  
                Liera opened an outer hatch on the cockpit, quiet enough not to wake Danse from the slumber he’d fallen into.  
                She attached her rifle to the holster above her jump kit, “Alright, EV. Let’s get you up and running before the Calvary arrives.”  
                A small wire with two prongs on the end retracted from the socket.  She connected it to her gauntlet, and slid the panel up her sleeve.  The touchscreen display came to life at the sign of being opened.  
                Liera looked behind her, verifying for the last time that Danse was still asleep.  
_“I’ve tried everything…I have to do this.”_  
                She imagined her father’s lecture.  
_“Liera, remember what happened last time?  You almost died.”_  
                A screen overwrote the icons of various applications as she plugged the tether into the device on her arm, “Manual_Override_Main_Menu.”  
_“Special little screen, only for me…’Blessed with a curse,’ as dad put it.”_  
                Liera navigated through the folders,  
Titan_Reboot  
Manual_Entry  
Authorized_Personnel_Only  
\SECURITY CLEARANCE VERIFICATION INIATIATED/  
INPUT: Foxtrot, Alfa, Lima, Oscar, Uniform, Tango  
<<INPUT APPROVED>>  
\BIOMETRIC SCAN INITIATED/  
Scanning…  
                Liera’s retinas were verified.  
Scanning…  
                A needle pricked her, testing her blood.  
<<BIOTMETRIC SCAN SUCCESSFUL>>  
Message Window (opened by Admin):  
Callsign []WARDEN[]: Welcome to the Archive, Pilot.  
COMMAND PROMPT:  
User Command….[enter]  
                EV was still in there.  And she wasn’t happy.  
“Can’t fix you.” Liera frantically typed on the small keyboard, “Need to use implant.”  
“Warning-“  
“Maxson is almost here.” Liera hit send before EV could argue, “Parameter 4.”  
“Initializing.” EV agreed begrudgingly.  
                The plates in Liera’s head began to glow.  She squeezed her eyes shut as the tingling sensation racked her brain.  
                EV’s corrupted ocular lights shuddered.  Blue and red lights mixed, and a purple glow cast a fervent shadow around them.  
“Nearing completion.” EV wrote.  
                Liera wasn’t sure when it happened, but the ground leveled with her helmet.  She landed next to EV’s hand, still anchored to the ground.  
                The pain ceased to mean anything other than mission success, and the two outlanders became one.


	12. Dismantle and Repair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“The soul neither exists without a body, nor is a body of some sort.”_  
>  -Aristotle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ** _Archive Quick Reference Guide_**  
>   
>  **Boreum Alloy:** A material made from combining metals, predominately used to build Titans.

* * *

 

* * *

 

ASRG: Operational.  
Battery Well Administration: CONNECTED.  
Rebooting critical systems.  
Loading Pilot Communications…  
Initializing Helmet Recall.  
_  
_ A beacon popped up on the Titan’s network, marking the Pilot’s location.  
  
_“Host Report:  
Pilot communications fully operational.”  
  
_ Battery 1: RESTORED.  
Loading Ocular Hub…  
A/V visuals: ONLINE.  
  
The Titan’s lens closed and opened. It looked down to find a body face-down, a tether still connected to it’s gauntlet. _  
  
_ Opening Archive Entry: SRS_PILOT_LASTIMOSA01  
Name: Liera Evelyn Lastimosa, as identified by Neural Link Briefing conducted by F.MILITIA_MAJOR_ELI_ANDERSON015.  
Sex: Female  
Age: 24  
Height: 5’7”  
Weight: 180 lbs.  
Eyes: PRPL; Result of red implants behind blue iris.  
Hair: BLCK  
Class: Combat Intel Specialist  
Brigade: M-COR  
Combat Data: 99% Combat Effectiveness Rating, achieved by strong Neural Link.  
Technological Qualification: Vastly above average.  
Misc. Information: Daughter of Tai and Evelyn Lastimosa.  
Unable to retrieve further Pilot notes from SRS Galaxynet Servers.  Encrypting Archived internal copies under Host Request.  
_  
_ Loading Diagnostics…  
Initializing Vitals Scrub.  
  
_“Host Report:  
Severe exhaustion, dehydration, and malnourished.  
Vitals report: Failed to meet all standards.  
Radiation: Midway to terminal levels.  
Patient must be treated within next 120 minutes.  
Timer started: 119:59:98 minutes.  
Host added data to L.LASTI0625 Medical Records.”  
_  
Loading Tactical Processing…  
Initialization concluded.  
Commencing Short-Ranged Terrain Analysis.  
_  
_                 Danse shifted on the bench, his head turning as he slept.  
_  
_ Opening Archive Entry: BOS_PALADIN_DANSE001  
Name: Saul Johnfield Danse, as identified by BOS_PALADIN_BRANDIS005.  
Sex: Male  
Age: Late 20’s; Early 30’s  
Height: 6’5”  
Weight: 232 lbs.  
Eyes: BRWN  
Hair: BLCK  
Combat Data: Above average.  
Technological Qualification: Average.  
Misc. Information: Injury to left knee may prevent mobility. Abnormal energy readings.  Residual traces of Power Armor probable cause.  
  
_“Host Inquiry:  
Danse_Assist.”  
_  
Results inconclusive.  
  
_“Host Note:  
Paladin Danse may be more of an asset than BOS_ELDER_MAXSON004.”_ _  
  
_ Battery 2: RESTORED.  
Loading Radio Transmitters…  
Radio Transmission Capabilities: ONLINE.  
Militia Satellite Array: Connected.  
Contact History: Retrieved.  
Loading Audio Communications…  
External/Internal abilities established.  
Opening Loudspeaker.  
  
“Paladin Danse?” The Titan asked, it’s purple hub’s light dimming and brightening with its voice.  
  
_“Host Report:  
Subject is unresponsive at first attempt to contact.”  
  
_ “Paladin Danse?”  
  
                He mumbled, his hand slinking off the bench, hanging at his side.  
  
_“Host Report:  
Subject is unresponsive at second attempt to contact.”_  
  
“Paladin Danse.”  
  
                His face creased and he swallowed in his sleep.  
  
_“Host Report:  
Subject is unresponsive at third attempt to contact.  Commencing sound-off.”  
_  
                A horn blared from the cockpit.  
                Danse shot up, gripping his knee.  
“What...Why…It’s morning, already?” Danse asked.  
  
“ _Host Report:  
Made contact with subject on fourth attempt.”  
_  
Loading Video Communications…  
Video Comms: ONLINE.  
Battery 3: RESTORED.  
Loading cockpit regulation configuration…  
  
                Danse fell next to Liera, clutching her in his hands.  
                Rhys walked out of the building.  
  
Opening Archive Entry: BOS_KNIGHT_RHYS003  
Name: L. Rhys, as identified by BOS_PALADIN_DANSE001 and jumpsuit patch.  
Unconfirmed first name.  
Host noted missing data to Pilot’s Log.  
Investigation required.  
Sex: Male  
Age: Early 20’s  
Height: 5’9”  
Weight: 189 lbs.  
Eyes: BRWN  
Hair: BRWN  
Combat Data: Average.  
Technological Qualification: Average.  
Misc. Information: Minor injuries acquired from native forces during first contact. Subject is hostile towards machines.  Fear of technology probable cause.  
_  
“Host Inquiry:  
 Rhys_Assist.”  
_  
Results suggest negative outcome.  
  
_“Host Note:  
Knight Rhys is unwelcoming of foreign entities.”_

  
“What was that noise?” Rhys asked, rubbing his shoulder.  
“It was EV. Lastimosa is unconscious.” Danse said, “I don’t know what happened.”  
  
Temperature control…ONLINE.  
Pressure control………..ONLINE.  
Air filter…………………….ONLINE.  
Medical unit………………ONLINE.  
  
                The cockpit’s doors opened, “Please place-“  
  
//ERR0R?#$//* &?  
  
“-Scribe Haylen in the cockpit.”  
  
“It wants us to do _what?_ ” Rhys hollered.  
“Medical unit engaged.  Please place Scribe Haylen in the cockpit.” The Titan clarified.  
“What about your Pilot?” Danse’s brow creased.  
  
//ERR0R?#$//*&?PROTOCOL{3}*$OVERRIDE// CALLSIGN&%:.MAVERICK//???  
  
                The Titan didn’t respond.  
                Brandis slumped in the doorway.  
  
Opening Archive Entry: BOS_PALADIN_BRANDIS005  
Name: M. Brandis, as identified by BOS_PALADIN_DANSE001 and jumpsuit patch.  
Unconfirmed first name.  
Host noted missing data to Pilot’s Log.  
Investigation required.  
Sex: Male  
Age: Late 40’s  
Height: 6’0”  
Weight: 194 lbs.  
Eyes: BRWN  
Hair: SLVR  
Combat Data: Unobserved.  
Host noted missing data to Pilot’s Log.  
Investigation required.  
Technological Qualification: Unobserved.  
Host noted missing data to Pilot’s Log.  
Investigation required.  
Misc. Information: Believes unknown entity is present at all times. Mentally unstable.  Sufficiently paranoid.  
  
_“Host Inquiry:  
Brandis_Assist.”  
_  
Results suggest minimal action taken by Brandis.  
  
_“Host Note:  
 Brandis recovered HDD containing mystery IMC Pilot’s Log entries.”_

  
Battery 4: RESTORED.  
Running mobility diagnostics…

  
“Rhys, Brandis, get Haylen.” Danse ordered.  
“Paladin Danse, are we really going to put Haylen in this thing?” Rhys opposed to the idea.  
“Yes!”  
  
Left Arm Stability……….46%  
Right Arm Stability…….57%  
Left Leg Stability………..87%  
Right Leg Stability……...10%  
Overall Mobility Check: 50% functional.  
  
Host documented Dismantle and Repair instructions to Pilot’s Log.  
Running misc. functions diagnostics….  
  
                Brandis and Rhys came out of the building with Haylen on a plank of wood.  She yelled as she rocked back and forth.  The bandage that wrapped her was now fully saturated in blood.  
                They hesitated.  
  
  
Opening Archive Entry: BOS_SCRIBE_HAYLEN002  
Name: C. Haylen, as identified by BOS_PALADIN_DANSE001 and jumpsuit patch.  
Unconfirmed first name.  
Host noted missing data to Pilot’s Log.  
Investigation required.  
Sex: Female  
Age: Early 20’s  
Height: 5’5”  
Weight: 158 lbs  
Eyes: BLUE  
Hair: RED  
Combat Data: Below average.  
Technological Qualification: Above average.  
Misc. Information: Subject possesses vast medical knowledge and strategic processing capabilities.  Caretaker of RECON_SQUAD_GLADIUS.  
  
_“Host Inquiry:  
Haylen_Assist.”  
_  
Results suggest positive outcome.  
  
_“Host Note:  
Haylen is in critical condition and will most likely not survive wounds sustained in battle.”_

“Put her in. Now.” Danse gripped his injured knee as he rolled Liera onto her back.  He began fiddling with her helmet, squinting away from the purple light that came from behind her visor.  
“Do not remove Pilot Helmet nor BCI Tether.  Doing so could result in loss of life.” The Titan warned.  
                Danse observed the thin wire that ran from her gauntlet to the Titan’s chassis, “ _My_ life or _her_ life?”  
“Maybe the Initiate is dead.  That would explain the machine wanting Haylen instead.” Rhys said, lowering the makeshift stretcher with Brandis, “We never fought like this before she got here. Even with everything we’d been through, we stuck together as a team.  She’s been dividing us, can’t you see that?”  
  
Battery 5: RESTORED.  
Diagnosing defense capabilities…  
Vortex Shield: ONLINE.  
Electric Smoke Dispersers: ONLINE.  
Particle Wall: ONLINE.  
Hull Integrity: Compromised.  
Pilot repairs: Sufficient.  
Host added fieldstripping improvement notes to Pilot’s Log.  
Searching for final battery connection…  
Searching…  
Battery 6: LOCATED.  
Loading mass of data…  
  
“If you feel disconnected from the team it’s because you _made_ yourself disconnected.   You said it yourself at the military array: The Militia is real.” Danse argued.  
“And Brandis calls them terrorists _._   Why is that, I wonder?” Rhys shot, “Why can’t she just go back to the moon, defending space rocks?”  
“I may be injured, Rhys, but don’t mistake that for complacency.  I’m doing everything I can to keep Haylen alive.  Now, you need to do the same.” He glared, “Unless you want to explain to Maxson why you have to find a new profession when he gets here.”  
  
Battery 6: ONLINE.  
Running Core Diagnostics…  
Core 1- Vanguard Core…  
Testing…  
Weapon Reload…OK.  
Core Swap…OK.  
Maelstrom…OK.  
Multi-Core Mount…OK.  
Lastimosa’s Armory™...OK.  
Core 2- Salvo Core…ONLINE.  
Core 3- Flame Core…ONLINE.  
Core 4- Laser Core…ONLINE.  
Core 5- Flight Core…ONLINE.  
Core 6- Smart Core…ONLINE.  
Core 7- Sword Core…ONLINE.  
  
_“Host Report:  
100% System Recovery.”  
_  
                Rhys looked back at Haylen.  
                Brandis helped him lower her onto the Pilot’s chair.  
“Please clear the cockpit of all non-patients.” The Titan asked.  
“No.” Rhys growled.  
“Do it.” Danse stumbled to his feet.  
                Brandis put an arm against Rhys’s chest, and forced him to take two steps back, “An order…must be…followed…no matter how-“  
                The cockpit doors closed, and Rhys lost control.

Medical Scan: Initiated.  
Shrapnel injury to abdomen.  
Foreign object dimensions: 50.8mm x 25.4mm.  
Risk assessment: Critical.  
Cockpit misted for sterilization.  
Treatment Options: Limited.  
Administering 25mg of Pilot Stim.  
  
                Rhys pounded his fists against the cockpit door, “GIVE HER BACK!” His hands wrapped around the tether, “Open the doors or I’ll rip this thing out of your Pilot!”  
  
Retrieving field copy of Operation: Wasteland Order dossier…  
Parameter 5: <<PILOT LASTIMOSA>> is authorized to use <<DEADLY FORCE>> to limit further damage to Militia property due to theft, misuse, destruction, or unauthorized transport.  
  
                Liera’s body moved in a blur.  
                She gripped Rhys’s wrist with her right arm, and pulled him off with a force that should not have been possible.  
                He landed on his back, and slid into the stairs.

Patient: Stabilized.  
Surgery required within next 60 minutes.  
Timer started: 59:59:88 minutes.  
Medical Scan: Completed.

                Rhys rolled up his sleeves and charged at Liera.  
“Rhys!” Danse shouted, “Stop!”  
                Liera aimed her rifle at Rhys, the safety disengaging with a haunting, “click.”  
                He stopped dead in his tracks.

System Reboot: Complete.  
All Essential Functions: Re-established.  
All Nonessential Functions: Re-established.  
Deactivating BCI Implant.  
Transferring to Neural Link in 3…  
2…  
1…  
Mark.

…

                The tether snapped from Liera’s arm and slithered into EV.  
                The tiny compartment locked with a magnetized “click.”  
                Reality imploded, solidifying Liera’s consciousness that was horrified by the settling dust.  
_“I promised you I’d never do that to you again.”_  
“Initiate!”  
                A voice.  
                One she’d grown to like.  
                Danse.  
_“I had to, EV.  I’m so sorry.”  
_ “Lower…your weapon!”  
                A shotgun pumping.  
                Disconnected speech.  
                Brandis.  
_“Please forgive me.  Please.”  
_ “Just give us Haylen…”  
                Pained.  
                Angry.  
                Rhys. _  
_ “Come on, soldier!  Snap out of it!”  
                Liera’s rifle lowered at Danse’s request.  
                Her senses were fragmented- corrupted data downloaded from a compromised server.  
                Sights became sounds, and she could taste what was on her skin.  
                Blood.  
                Dirt.  
                Sweat.  
                Tears.  
                She really hated crying.  
                Liera buckled forward and clasped her heart.  
                Red specs clouded her blue visor as she coughed.  
                A small whimper escaped her as it retracted.  
                Her lips quivered, “I’m sorry.”  
                It was time to sleep.

…

                They sat along the edge of the cliff, staring at the ocean that tugged at the setting sun.  They smoked in silence, and Ryan’s knee supported his elbow.  Liera’s head rested on his leg, looking up at him as he ran his fingers threw her hair.  
“You could’ve tried harder with Miller.” He said.  
“He was boring.” Liera coughed, “And he broke up with me, remember?”  
“That’s because you acted like a heartless bitch.” He laughed.  
“Fuck off.” She said, “Not my fault you set a high bar, asshole.”  
“Intentionally.” Ryan admitted, “So, how does it feel to be on solid ground?  With _real_ gravity?”  
“Weird. It’s a lot heavier.” Liera hit her cigarette, “Everything feels different.”  
“Yeah, I was afraid of that.” He sighed, looking at her arm.  
“Does it bother you?” She asked.  
“No.  You’re still just as beautiful as ever.” Ryan caressed her gunmetal shoulder, “I just wish I could have got there sooner. Maybe-“  
“Don’t…You might still be here if I didn’t act so brash.” Liera’s eyes welled, “I left a lot more of myself than a few body parts on the battlefield that day.”  
                A tear fell from Ryan’s chin and wet her forehead, “You can’t keep going like this.” His shoulders tensed as he sniffed, wiping his nose, “I know what you need.”  
“You’re dead.  You don’t know shit.”  
“Sure, I do.  I still know you better than yourself.  You need to chill the fuck out and relax.” He huffed.  
“How am I supposed to relax?” Liera frowned.  
                A storm rolled in with black clouds that devoured the sky.  Thunder clapped, and lightning stretched overhead.  
                Ryan’s voice faded into static.  
“You lean back-“  
                The breeze turned into gusts.  
“You close your eyes-“  
                The cliff below them crumbled into the waves.  
“And you breathe.”

…

  
“Patient’s crashing, get a charge going.”  
“Sir, there’s burn marks smoking through her suit.”  
“Attention Prydwen Personnel: Galvanized Boreum Alloy prosthetics are probable cause.  Please remove jumpsuit before proceeding.” _  
_ EV’s voice.  
                Helmet’s speaker.  
“Is that helmet talking to us?”  
“Must be the robot.  You heard it- MOVE!”  
“Sir, how do we take off this gear?” _  
_                 A single woman’s voiced stood apart from the chaotic swarm of chatter. _  
“Out of the way, my husband was a Pilot.”_  
“You don’t have clearance to be here.” _  
“Arthur sent me.  That clearance enough for you?”  
                _ Clicks.  
                Latches undone.  
                Gear removed.  
_“Put these somewhere safe.  They’re stable, but sensitive.  Everywhere.”  
                _ Ordnance lost.  
Zipper pulled.  
                Boots removed.  
                Jumpsuit off.  
“Holy shit!”  
“Are we sure she’s not a Synth?”  
“Not after this.” _  
“This is Frontier tech, not the Institute’s.  Must be new.”_  
                A mask.  
                A machine.  
                A flat line.  
                Two cold paddles hit Liera’s chest.  
“Clear!” _  
_                 A pump of life into her heart.  
“Jesus, is that her spine?” _  
“No.  But I’m guessing it’s attached to it.”_  
                She was going to die.  
_“That’s the Militia for you.  They don’t go down without a fight.”  
                _ No, not today.  
                Not yet.  
“I’m sorry to hear about Haylen.  I know you two were friends.”  
_“She’s not dead yet.  She’s still with Cade.  Focus on the patient in front of you.”_  
“Yes ma’am.”  
“She’s crashing!”  
“Paddles charged at 100%!”  
“Knight, get your hand off that prosthetic unless you wanna get electrocuted!”  
_“What are you waiting for?!”  
_ “Clear!”  
Another shock.  
“We have a steady pulse.” _  
_ Doctors scattered.  
                Tools hit the floor.  
“She’s waking up.” _  
_                 The woman hovered above.  Her voice formed a string of words that filled Liera’s lungs with sterile air, _“Breathe, damn it.”_  
**“You lean back-“**  
                Again, Liera had been dismantled.  
**“You close your eyes-“**  
                But this time, it was by the hands of the Brotherhood that she’d been repaired.  
**“And you breathe.”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted two chapters today because I didn't want to make Tradecraft over 6k. The next few chapters will take awhile to write, but I hope you're enjoying everything thus far!  
> Thank you for reading!  
> <3


	13. The Ruler and the Killer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Alone._  
>  _Yes, that's the key word, the most awful word in the English tongue. Murder doesn't hold a candle to it and hell is only a poor synonym."_  
>  -Stephen King

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Speech linked in chapter text at, "People like you?"_

* * *

  


* * *

 

                iera screamed.  
                A hand pushed her back down, “Easy, there.”  
                He had a gentle touch.  
                More gentle than the green steel walls that seemed to be closing in on her as her vision refocused from its watery grave.  
                She jerked, and a snap followed.  Her prosthetic arm reflected the cold light throughout the room, and a handcuff dangled from her wrist.  
_“Shit.”  
_                 The man in front of her was about the same age as her father, only with less hair.  He wore a cable-knit sweater underneath a pocketed garment similar to Haylen’s. He pushed his glasses up with a thick glove, “Thought that might happen.” He leaned back and called out from behind the blue curtain pulled around them, “Paladin?”  
                A shadowy figure moved into the medical facility, fully equipped with a silhouette rifle.  
“Yes, Knight-Captain?” Danse responded.  
_“Great. Just who I want to see right now.”_  
                A machine beeped and told on her as she tampered with the needle in her other arm.  
_“This an IV drip?_ ”  
                She studied the equipment plugged in to her flesh.  
                The Knight-Captain swiped the fabric barrier, it’s hinges grinding against the rusted railing above.  Liera was exposed in her vulnerable state.  
                Danse observed her, slack-jawed and bewildered.  
                And then he looked pissed.  
                There was a special kind of hurt in his eyes.  
_“Go ahead. Judge me. I’ve been through worse.”  
_ “The restraints won’t hold, I’m afraid.” The Knight-Captain explained, “I’ll have to ask you to stand guard while I preform the medical evaluation. Safety of the crew members, and such. You understand.”  
“Affirmative.” Danse answered.  
                Liera’s face crinkled at the hostility in his voice.  
                She looked down to find herself only covered by the white tank top and black cotton shorts she wore underneath her suit.  Liera tried to cross her arms, forgetting the left one was still cuffed, “Is this really necessary?”  
                She pulled again, cursing the sturdy railing of the bed she was stuck to.  
“For now.” The man with a medical cross on his sleeve answered.  
“Where am I?” Liera asked, “Who are you?”  
                He chuckled, “Aboard the _Prydwen,_ Initiate.  I am Knight-Captain Cade, the resident medical officer.  How do you do?”  
_“You’re joking, right?”_  
“Been better…” She said.  
“I hear that far too many times in one day.” Cade smirked, “Although, your entrance was…Most unexpected.”  
                Liera sighed, “I’m not going to hurt anyone.”  
“I’ll be the judge of that.” He said, “For now, we’ll begin with a simple examination.”  
_“Cheery.”_  
                Cade pulled a tiny flashlight from his vest, “Try not to blink.” He clicked it on and switched his observation from her left pupil to the next, “Muscle spasms in the eyes from high levels of stress...” He shut the flashlight off and put it away, “Purple in color.  Were they like that when you were born, or was it the result of another augmentation?”  
                Liera’s brow furrowed, “They’re blue, naturally.  Red lenses were implanted for…Security purposes.”  
“I see.” Cade jotted a note down, “Thank you for being honest.”  
“Like I said, I’m not here to hurt anyone.” She repeated.  
“I’ve read Paladin Danse’s most recent reports.”  Cade lifted a stethoscope from around his neck, “Even with Ms. Black’s verification of the claims, Elder Maxson is a bit hesitant on your means to complete your mission.”  
_“Who is ‘Ms. Black?’ How did she ‘verify’ anything?”_  
“My mission?  You mean stopping the IMC from purging Earth of all native life?” Liera rebutted.  
“That would be the one.” Cade approached her cautiously, “Please sit up.”  
                Liera gripped the railings on either side of the bed.  
                Danse pointed his rifle at her, “Slowly.”  
                She froze, “You’re really going to pull a gun on me, after all I’ve done for you?”  
“You pulled one on Rhys.  It’s only fair.” He stood firm.  
_“That’s petty even for you, Danse.”  
_                 Liera scowled under her breath as she straightened herself, jumping at the coldness of Cade’s stethoscope under her shirt.  It slid from the middle of her shoulders to her lower back.  
                It hit against something, and Cade removed his earpieces.  
“What is that?” He asked.  
“Lumbar implant.” She answered.  
                Using the tip of his pen, Cade lifted her tank top to just below her bra strap, “And why was this necessary?”  
_“Can you stop poking around back there, creep?”  
_ “After being attacked, I was paralyzed from the waist down. Now I’m not.” Liera mumbled.  
“Fascinating…” He commented, “Paladin, have a look.”  
                She didn’t want to think about what Danse would have to say about her cybernetic reminders to not rush into conflict.  
“Have you seen anything like this?” Cade asked.  
“No, sir…” Danse seemed nervous, “I have not.”  
_“Yeah, I get it, it’s cool.  Can you put my shirt down?”_  
“Noted.” More scribbles followed the doctor’s observation.  
                Liera used her free hand to adjust herself.  
_“That was awkward.”_  
                Cade walked to the other side of the bed and pinched Liera’s wrist.   He looked up to her, and then down at his watch, “There's nothing to be alarmed about.  Just curious, is all.”  
_“You’re delusional.”_  
“Do you have a history of high blood pressure, soldier?” Cade asked after a minute ticked by.  
“Not until recently.” Liera answered.  
“Very well.” He wrote down her numbers, “Do you know your height and weight?”  
“5’7”, 180 lbs.” EV spoke from the helmet resting on a folded jumpsuit next to her.  
_“_ There _it is!”_  
                Both men in the room jumped.  
“Does it always listen in on conversations?” Cade asked, irritated.  
“More than we’d like.” Danse grunted.  
_“What if I told you she recorded all of them, too?”_  
“I see.” Cade sat down on a stool with wheels, clicking his pen and writing more notes, “So, your prosthetic arm.  What’s the story there?”  
                Liera gulped, “I was injured on the field.  They told me I’d never be able to hold a rifle again, so I told them to cut my arm off and give me a new one.”  
                Danse’s demeanor softened a bit, “And those?” He eyed her legs.  
_“Oh,_ now _you wanna talk to me?”_  
                She looked at the diamond-shaped plates that served as her knees, “Standard Pilot replacement.  Jump kits can be kinda hard on the joints.”  
_“Swapped those bad boys out after I ran the Gauntlet…IN RECORD TIME!”  
                _ She celebrated silently. _  
_ “Alright…and the slivers on your head?” Cade asked.  
“Classified.” Liera cracked her jaw.  
“Under who’s authority?” Cade turned to Danse.  
“The Frontier Militia.” Liera answered for him.  
_“Didn’t write_ that _in your reports, huh?”_  
“Keep in mind, I’m documenting these conversations.” Cade sneered, “Now, I'm going to ask you a series of medical-related questions and I'd like you to answer me to the best of your ability.”  
                Liera nodded.  
“Do you smoke?” He asked.  
“Sometimes.” She answered quietly.  
“How many cigarettes a month?”  
                She shrugged, “Two.  Maybe ten.  Depends.”  
“And do you consume alcohol?” Cade continued.  
“Only on the weekends.” Liera answered.  
“Heavy drinking?”  
_“I will be after today.”  
_ “No.” She said.  
“Good.” Cade checked a box, “Are you currently taking any prescribed medications, or have you in the past?”  
“Iron pills. Was.”  
_“Iron-ic, right? See what I did there?”_  
“For?” He asked.  
“Iron-deficiency anemia.” Liera sighed.  
_“Wish nanotech was around when mom was alive.  She probably wouldn’t have died.”  
_ “Ah, a common one...Any other known medical conditions?”  
                Liera shook her head, “No.”  
“Have you received medical treatment within the last 120 hours aside from your care onboard the _Prydwen_?”  
“Yes.” She answered honestly.  
“What kind?”  
“Ask EV.” Liera shrugged, “I don’t know what she gives me half the time.”  
“It’s equipped with a medical unit?” Cade’s mouth hung open for a moment.  
“Yep.”  
“Uploading report…” EV said, “Administered 25mg of promethazine for heightened nausea.  Administered 1mg of alprazolam to null increased anxiety.  Administered 15mg of cyclobenzaprine to reduce muscle spasms.  Sleeping gas ingested 48 hours ago.  Scribe Haylen injected Pilot Lastimosa with a native substance known as Rad-X 24 hours ago.  Pilot took high-tier pain killers less than 12 hours ago.”  
"Interesting…” Cade’s pen scribbled furiously, “Do you have any known medical allergies?”  
“No.” Liera leaned back.  
“And do you know your blood type?” He asked.  
“Nope.”  
“AB negative.” EV said.  
“Rare.” Cade wrote, “A universal donor, to boot.”  
“Be advised: Pilot Lastimosa has received multiple nanotechnology injections to bloodstream.  This negates all possible blood transfusions to other hosts.” EV announced.  
_“Goddamn it, EV.”_  
                Cade and Danse exchanged looks.  
“Nanotechnology?” Danse asked.  
“Takes a lot to maintain these cybernetics.” Liera closed her eyes, “So they injected me with cute little nanorobots to regulate everything.”  
_“Literally what I said in my Pilot’s Log.”_  
“Any other past surgeries other than your prosthetics and these injections?” Cade asked.  
“No.” _  
_ “On to a more personal subject, then.” Cade flipped a fresh page on his notepad, “How many consensual sexual partners have you had?”  
“What?” Liera’s eyes shot open.  
“This is required information for all medical intents and purposes.  There's nothing to be embarrassed about.” He explained.  
“Can we talk about this later?” Liera fidgeted, “As in _not_ in front of _him_?”  
                Danse’s eyes averted to his rifle.  
“That's fine, but you won’t be cleared for active duty until you've completed the exam and I give you a clean bill of health.” Cade was stern.  
“One.”  
“One?” He looked at her above his glasses.  
“My dad’s an esteemed Captain.  Give me a break.” She growled. _  
_ “I don’t understand the reference, Initiate.”  
“It means everyone was scared to come within five feet of me, much less-“  
“I understand.” Cade interrupted her, “We’ll need your blood drawn for an STI panel…if we _can._   Any nonconsensual partners?”  
“No.”  
“Glad to hear.” He scribbled, “Have you ever had sexual relations with any species considered non-human?”  
_“‘Yeah, blew a Flyer once. Caught me.’  What kind of fucking question is that?”_  
“…No.” She answered.  
                Danse cleared his throat.  
“Good. I find the practice highly distasteful myself.  We’ll get you up to date on Earthly vaccinations, regardless.” Cade flipped his notebook to a long questionnaire, “We’re going to move on to the mental health exam. Personally, I feel that the mental state of the crew is just as important as the physical.  Please answer the following questions honestly.”  
_“I won’t.”  
_ “Sure.” Liera offered.  
“Have you ever talked to a professional about an emotional problem?”  He asked.  
_“Who has time for that when they’re at war?”_  
“No.”  
“Have you ever felt you _needed_ help with emotional problems, or had people recommend you get help?”  
_“Plenty have recommended a psych eval.”_  
“No.” She lied.  
“Did you ever attempt to kill yourself?” Cade asked.  
_“Not unless you consider my agreement to come here ‘an attempt.’”_  
“No.”  
“Have you ever had nightmares or flashbacks because of being involved in some traumatic event?”  
_“Only every night.  
_                 Liera hesitated, “No.”  
“Have you ever experienced any strong fears?” Cade continued.  
_“Have you ever seen a Prowler?”  
_ “No.”  
“Have you ever given in to an aggressive impulse that resulted in serious harm to others or led to the destruction of property?”  
_“Every opportunity I get, it seems.”  
_ “No.” She answered coldly.  
                He flipped a page, “Bear with me.  These next few questions are a mouthful.” Cade adjusted his glasses before he began, “Have you ever had a period of time when you needed little sleep, and believed you could do almost anything?”  
_“The everyday life of a Pilot.”  
_ “No.”  
“Have you ever had spells when you suddenly felt anxious or uneasy to the extent that you began sweating, your heart beat rapidly, or you felt as if you would faint?”  
_“Did you see a recording of my deployment to the Commonwealth or something?”  
_ “No.” Liera took a deep breath, “Are we almost finished?”  
“Yes.  Last question.” Cade said, “Would you have any problems pulling the trigger on an enemy of the Brotherhood whether they're human, formerly human or machine?”  
                Liera met Danse’s stare.  
_“No.  And I won’t hesitate to pull the trigger on the Brotherhood if they make an enemy out of the Militia.”  
_ “No.” She answered.  
“Outstanding.  Anyone that hesitates firing in combat due to misguided moral standards certainly isn't Brotherhood material.” Cade flipped his notepad back to the first page, “Well, Danse already reported your history with radiation, so it seems we’re done here.  My observation concludes that you’re either a sociopath, or a very bad liar.  Either way, I’m recommending you be put on suicide watch effective immediately.”  
                Liera yanked her chained wrist, “What did you just say to me?”  
“Simply put, you won’t be cleared for active duty until you pass your mental evaluation.  Who is her assigned roommate, Paladin?” Cade looked at him, “They will need to be notified.”  
“Me.” Danse answered, “I’m her assigned roommate.”  
“You are?” Liera asked.  
                Cade clicked his pen, returning it to the pocket on his chest, “Good. Saves me a lot of paperwork, you being here as a witness.”  
_“Uh, hello? Anyone? Me, questions? You, answers?”_  
                Cade stood and collected his notes, “Your team did a hell of a job out there, you know. Everyone on board is talking about it.”  
                Danse shifted, “Thanks.”  
_“Ugh.”_  
“No, thank _you._ ” Cade turned to Liera, “Initiate, after you’re finished getting dressed, Paladin Danse will escort you to the Command Deck where Elder Maxson has requested an audience.  I’d recommend being more honest with him than you were with me.  He has significantly less patience than I do.”  
                Cade saluted Danse before dismissing himself.  
                Danse remained in the room, and he and Liera were alone.  
“You gonna stand there, or are you going to unlock me so we can get going?” She glowered.  
“Watch your mouth.” Danse’s tone was dangerous.  
_“Watch yourself, asshole.”_  
                Danse pulled a key from his pocket, inserting it into the keyhole.  The cuff unlatched underneath his hands.  He eyed Liera carefully, keeping one hand on the pistol strapped to his belt.  
“I didn’t have a choice.” Liera rubbed her wrist.  
“Sure, you did.  You could have told me what you were doing.  But you didn’t.” Danse leaned over her, “You _chose_ not to be transparent, and almost opened fire on Rhys.”  
“What about me?!” Their noses almost touched as she got in his face, “I could have died trying to save EV and Haylen!”  
“And this?” He gripped her metal shoulder, “What about all this?!”  
                Her eyebrows formed a harsh crevice, “Wasn’t important.  Still isn’t.”  
“I beg to differ.” Danse’s hand fell from her, “Get dressed.  We can’t keep Arthur waiting.”  
“Sure thing, _Paladin.”_ Liera sneered, balancing herself on the edge of the bed.  
                She snatched her jumpsuit from the table, and pushed one leg through it, “Where’s the rest of my stuff?”  
“Your weapons and other devices are with the _Prydwen’s_ Quartermaster, Proctor Teagan.  He manages the Brotherhood’s equipment, and catalogs weapons and armor recovered by research patrols out in the field.” Danse explained, “Any of your personal belongings were delivered to our joint Quarters.”  
                Liera shrugged her arms through her sleeves, “And my dogtags?”  
“Personal belongings.”  
“Why’d you let me keep my helmet?” She pulled her boots from under the table, and slipped them over her socks.  
“Because EV threatened to detonate all of her cores if we didn’t.” Danse answered harshly.  
                Liera grinned, pulling her zipper to her neck.  She picked her helmet up, observing it fondly before placing it on her shoulders.  
                The visor closed, and she turned towards Danse.  
                He nodded to the opening leading to the hallway, “You first.”  
“Fine.” She marched in front of him.  
                Liera filled her nervous lungs, “Hey, EV.”  
“Are you okay, Pilot Lastimosa?” EV asked.  
_“Just like you. Totally oblivious.”  
_ “Take a right.” Danse pointed.  
                Liera followed his orders.  
“Yeah…” She paused, “Missed you.”  
“I have not moved from the position I was left in.  I remain underneath the _Prydwen._ ” EV displayed a live video feed of her surroundings.  
                A woman with greasy, red hair had her hands on the hips of her unhelmeted suit of Power Armor, “What the hell does Maxson expect me to do with this thing?  Hey! Say something! I know you can talk…”  
                EV cut the feed, “The Brotherhood’s agents have been more than curious about my existence.  Permission to answer common-knowledge based questions.”  
“Of course…” Liera kept her voice low as she was paraded through what looked to be a Mess Hall.  
                The room was lined by benches, and a man stood behind a bar counter.  To his right, a wall lined with holotags stood prominently, the words, “We Remember the Fallen,” sprawled across the top.  
_“We Remember…”  
                _ She silently repeated the SRS greeting.  
                Rhys sat at one of the tables, biting his lip instead of the fork full of food that hung in his hand.  
                Liera’s stomach growled.  
_“Food sounds nice…”  
                _ Rhys grunted and turned his back to her.  
_“…and so does punching Rhys in the face.”  
                _ Liera ignored the extra 20 or so pairs of eyes that locked on her.  
“Up ahead.” Danse said.  
                The floors of the _Prydwen_ were a hard wood, but it reflected everything rather colorfully.  
                A steel ladder blocked the view of what looked to be a set of windows.  A single figure shifted behind the porous rungs, and two suits of manned Power Armor guarded an entrance.  
“EV…” Liera sighed, “I’m sorry.”  
“Protocol 2: Uphold the mission.  Your apology is unwarranted.” EV wrote.  
_“_ We’ll agree to disagree.” Liera smirked, “And EV? Don’t ever leave me again.”  
“I will do my best, Pilot Lastimosa.” EV answered.  
                Danse poked Liera’s back with his gun, “Visor open.”  
_“Watch were you’re pointing that thing…”_  
                She clicked the side of her helmet, and her visor retracted.  
                They rounded the ladder, and walked into a room whose doors were suspended on a rack above them.  The words “Command Deck” were etched onto a sign that was secured to the left.  
                Light cascaded upon a pair of orange Brotherhood of Steel flags, hanging from golden poles on either side of a single man.  
                He wore a brown, high-collared, leather coat that dangled over the exposed legs of his black jumpsuit and boots. The Brotherhood of Steel’s insignia graced his left shoulder.  He leaned against a railing, observing the Commonwealth from the observation windows of the _Prydwen.  
                _ The man turned his head slightly to address them as they entered, “We have a lot of data to analyze in the wake of your mission.”  
                He faced them then, folding his hands behind his back, stretching the opened front of the coat.  
                His head was shaved on either side of a wide strip of hair, and had a beard that was recently trimmed.  A deep trench of a scar highlighted the left side of his face, and another crossed his nose.  His sunken, hardened-steel eyes narrowed under a pair of thick eyebrows.  
                But his voice…it held a passion that Liera had grown to fear.  
                A man with power over the Brotherhood of Steel.  
                A ruler.  
                She tensed, “Elder Maxson, I presume?”  
                He nodded, “And you are the Pilot recovered from the Cambridge Police Station.”  
_“Recovered…what do I look like to you?  The heap of scrap metal this ship of yours was built from?”_  
“I am.” Liera answered.  
                Maxson shook his head, returning his gaze to the window, “That you could travel with that… _thing_ …makes me seriously question your judgement, Paladin.”  
_“Is he watching_ _EV?”_  
                Danse swallowed, “The extra guns gave us a distinct advantage over the enemy.”  
“Yes, and free-thinking machines are still an insult to our way of life. They need to be destroyed.” Maxson argued, “I refuse to allow the mistakes of the past to be repeated.”  
“’Destroyed?’ Are you threatening her?” Liera growled.  
“Be quiet.” Danse silenced Liera, looking back to Maxson, “Lastimosa shows a lot of promise, and with the proper guidance, I think she has the potential of becoming one of the best.”  
_“Way to back me up after talking me down…”_  
“I’m not worried about the Pilot.  It’s her Titan and its sentient being that concerns me.” Maxson held out his hand while his other remained behind him.  
                He raised his pointer finger, partially covered by a fingerless glove, “No controls,” and then his middle finger, “No supervision,” He formed a fist, “Technology run amok.”  
“I certainly wasn't expecting to find something like EV during our mission in the Commonwealth.” Danse sounded frustrated, “But what has been made apparent is that we face a threat larger than the Institute, one we know almost nothing about.  If we are to prepare ourselves to face it, we need the cooperation of Initiate Lastimosa, and that means accepting her Titan.”  
_“Hmph.”_  
“I’ve had plenty of time to read your reports, I have no need for a recap.” Maxson shook his head, “Have you taken leave of your senses, Paladin?  How can you trust the word of a machine that thinks it’s _alive_?”  
_“I mean, I have proof.  Ask me for it?”_  
“It’s not just the machine saying these things _._   Initiate Lastimosa has told us personally about the IMC and their plans to colonize Earth.  I spoke with her superiors, Arthur.  The Militia.” Danse wavered, “We can’t afford to jeopardize our only avenue of preparing for their arrival.”  
“I wouldn’t call it our _only_ avenue.” A woman spoke from behind them, “Perhaps the most promising, however.”  
_“That voice…”_  
                Danse and Liera turned to face the woman.  
                She had hazel eyes that were darkened by smoky makeup.  Her chestnut hair was tied back in a messy bun, and strings of it dangled in front of two gashes on her pale face.  Below, her neck was wrapped by two leather chokers, the buckles resting underneath her pointed chin.  
                A skintight blue suit clung to her body, unzipped just below her breasts, and yellow stripes glided up her sides and arms.  Her sleeves were rolled just above her elbows that were guarded by pads, and she too wore fingerless gloves, but unlike Maxson’s, hers had small spikes on the knuckles.  A utility harness encased her chest.  Her denim jeans fit snug around her waist, tucked underneath a set of knee guards and black boots.  
                Liera eyed the pistol holstered to her right leg cautiously.  
                The woman left a trail of perfume as she passed, and three yellow numbers stretched in between her shoulder blades.  She stood next to Maxson, and smiled at Liera and Danse innocently.  
“Paladin Danse, I believe you remember Vault 111’s sole survivor, Nora Black.” Maxson introduced.  
“…I do.” He answered. _  
_ “Looking refined as ever, Paladin.” Nora greeted.  
“I don’t feel particularly _refined_ right now…”  
“Regardless, you’ll be happy to hear that Haylen is doing better.  Still asleep.  No visitors allowed.” She said.  
“And have you decided to join our ranks, yet? Or are you still just a mercenary for hire?” Danse growled.  
_“Interesting.”_  
                Maxson began, “Nora holds a…” He cleared his throat, “ _Unique_ position within the Brotherhood…”  
                Nora smirked.  
“…However, this is neither the time nor the place to discuss such matters.” He concluded.  
“Up on your feet already, hm?” Nora pointed her chin at Liera, “You were a mess when you went under.”  
“You.” Liera said, looking at her, “You were the one that said your husband was a Pilot.”  
                The room quieted.  
“I did.  And he was.” Nora crossed her arms.  
“What?” Danse was shocked.  
                Nora took a deep breath, “Nathan Black was granted his Pilot rank after many years of service to the IMC.  My sister was a scientist, and they were paired to the same squad.  They were part of a settlement expedition to the Outer Colonies.” She explained, “I remained on Earth as part of the medical staff for my father’s company, Hammond Engineering.”  
_“You’re Hammond’s…daughter?”  
_                 Liera’s eyes twitched.  
                Nora continued, “My sister, misguided as she was, decided to stay in the Colonies. Nathan faithfully returned to us. My father introduced me to him.  We were married for four years before he was deployed again.  Your… _Militia,_ as it were…Had become quite the nuisance by then.”  
                Liera’s fists balled at her sides, “Your family was responsible for killing thousands of innocent people.  I wouldn’t call _us_ the nuisance.”  
                Danse opened his mouth to scold Liera for speaking out of turn, but Maxson held a hand up, silencing him.  
                Nora snickered, “My resentment towards the Militia doesn’t stem from the politics of your war.  It only comes from the fact your people started it, and my sister died as a result.”  
“Started it?” Liera yelled, “Your precious IMC left its own settlers- my _ancestors,_ to fend for themselves on the Frontier because they didn’t like what they saw.  And when you all decided that we were worth your time, you sent the IMC back to us, and realized we flourished.  You tried to take everything from us, by _force_! That land was _ours-“_  
“Was it, now?  If not for the IMC, your ‘ancestors’ wouldn’t have even existed on those planets.” Nora interrupted, “If your people would have just cooperated, the Titan Wars would have never happened, Demeter would have remained, and the situation on Earth would never have escalated to nuclear fallout!”  
“What?” Liera was taken back.  
“Enough.” Maxson cut them off, “Now isn’t the time to assign fault for events that occurred over 200 years ago.”  
“200 years ago? Demeter fell 24 _months_ ago.” Liera corrected.  
“That’s impossible.” Nora snarled, “You’re lying.”  
“Am I?” Liera pulled her sleeve up, raising her cybernetic arm, “I was _there_.  I _fought_ for the Militia at Demeter.  I killed scores of IMC dirt bags who-“  
“I said…Enough.” Maxson interjected, jabbing a finger at Liera, “What’s more important is that you convince me to allow you, and your _Titan_ , to remain within the Brotherhood, don’t you think?”  
                Liera bit her tongue.  
_“What the fuck is going on?”  
_                 Danse came to her rescue, “Sir, I’ve promoted Lastimosa to Initiate and I’d like to sponsor her entry into our ranks personally.” He hesitated, “And I will hold the sole responsibility for any consequences of EV’s sanction, should you allow it.”  
_“You either hate us or you don’t.  Pick one.”  
_ “Wait, _what_?” Nora scoured.  
                Maxson hushed her before addressing Danse, “You value the machine’s life that much?” He nodded to Liera, “And hers?”  
Liera watched Danse anxiously, awaiting his response.  
“…I do.” Danse answered plainly.  
_“Phew.”  
                _ Maxson ran a hand through his mane and took a frustrated breath, watching Liera, “It's clear from Paladin Danse's reports that you understand our core values.  Seeing as he's one of my most respected Field Officers, you couldn't _get_ a better recommendation.  Therefore-“  
                Beep, beep.  
                Liera’s helmet vibrated, and her visor flickered over her brow.  
                She hit the silence button.  
                Maxson squinted, “As I was saying-“  
                Beep, beep.  
“EV, hush.” Liera quieted the helmet again.  
“Initiate.” Maxson growled.  
“Sorry.” She frowned sheepishly.  
_“Busy bargaining for our lives here, EV.”_  
“Anyway…I’ve-“ He continued.  
                Beep, beep.  
“What’s wrong?” Liera asked.  
“Delayed _MCS James MacAllan_ distress beacon detected.” EV announced through the speaker.  
_“Uh…”  
_                 Liera drew a blank.  
“Answer it.” Danse ordered. _  
_ “Opening signal on helmet comms.” EV cooperated.  
                Maxson and Nora watched, and Liera held her breath.  
                White noise filled the room before transcending into a slew of singled-out voices from those she called her friends and family:  
  
                Major Anderson.  
**“Broadsword Command, this is Militia 9 th Fleet!”** The signal waned, **“We have been ambushed by Anti-Orbital Defenses at Planet Typhon!”**  
Liera froze.  
_“What…?”  
_  
                Pilot Grenier.  
**“The Intel, was _wrong_!”  
**_“How, Chris?! You and the rest of M-COR collected it!”_  
  
                Captain Cole.  
**“IMC on the port side! Port side!”** The sounds of battle followed, **“We’re taking hits!”**  
_“Fuck…”_

  
                Sergeant Rickman.  
**“This is no ordinary research operation!”**  
_“No shit!”  
_  
                Major Anderson.  
**“We’re going down! Repeat, we are going down!”** A distress alarm blared, **“Coordinates to follow!”**  
_“Don’t you die on me, Anderson…Who’s going down?”  
  
                _ Sergeant Eszo.  
**“Sir, we’ve lost Rickman!”**  
_“No…”  
_  
                Pilot Miller.  
**“I’m seeing a ton of A.O.D.!”**  
_“Liam…”  
_  
                Pilot Talon.  
**“None if it was on the charts!”**  
_“Sage…I’ve never heard her so terrified…”  
_  
                Major Anderson.  
**“Decompression on decks five through nine!”** A secondary alarm started as he shouted, **“All hands abandon ship!  Repeat, all hands- abandon ship**! **”**  
_“Abandon? Which ship…?”_

  
                Captain Cole.  
**“Get to the lifeboats!”** The evacuation horn made Liera cringe, **“We’re going down!”** He screamed, **“WE’RE GOING DOWN!”  
**_“It can’t be-“  
_  
                Captain Lastimosa.  
**“This is the _MCS James MacAllan_! We are going down! I repeat, we are going down!”  
**_“Dad…The MacAllan...No…”  
  
_ “Cut the signal…” Danse whispered.  
  
                Pilot Grenier.  
**“They’re jamming us hard! We’re not getting through!”  
**  
“Cut the signal, damn it!” Danse yelled.  
  
                The broadcast ended.  
                The MacAllan.  
                Down.  
                Burnt.  
                Crashed.  
                Beep, beep.  
                Liera’s helmet flickered again.  
“Unknown frequency inbound.” EV said.  
“Patch us in...” Liera pushed through a clenched jaw.  
                Her watery focus dropped from an awestruck Nora.  
                A buzz came from the empty transmission.  
**“It’s been a long time.  Two years, to be exact.”** The man’s heavily accented voice was gasoline to the fire in Liera’s stomach.  
                A war criminal, wanted by the Militia.  
                A killer.  
                Liera’s fists bunched, “Blisk...”  
**“Did the SRS really think they could send a drone to Earth without us hearing about it?”** He asked, **“I have to say, mislabeling your Titan in the Militia’s Galaxynet made it harder to find you. Clever.”**  
“Fuck you.” Liera spat, “You should’ve died on Demeter like the rest of your _dogs._ ”  
**“I’m better than that. That’s the thing about apex predators.  They’re always better.”**  
                The radio crackled, and shifted from Blisk to another man.  
_“…we are from the carrier James MacAllan!  We’ve been shot down.  Do you read? Over!”_  
                Jack Cooper.  
_“Do we have any Pilots in the area?!”_ He screamed frantically.  
_“This is Captain Lastimosa.  I’ve got a fix on your location. On my way.”_ Tai responded.  
**“Hear that?”** Blisk taunted, **“Sounds like it’s time for _me_ to put down _your_ dogs.”**  
“I’m going to find you, bastard…” Liera’s mouth quivered.  
**“You’re marooned.”** He laughed, **“A wasted opportunity, really.  I could have collected bounties for you _and_ your father.  He’ll have to do, for now.”  
**_“Lastimosa, hostile Titans inbound.  Apex Predators.”_ Tai’s Titan announced, like a male equivalent of EV.  
_“Copy that, BT.  Mercenaries. Stay down, Cooper.  BT, let’s go_!” Tai answered.  
**[“People like you?](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hJ1r2f1Jv0Y) _Always_ want to be the hero...”**  
                The marching of Blisk’s Legion Titan muffled his condescending words.  
**“…The problem with being a hero, is…You have to be willing to _die_ for what you believe in.” ** He grunted, **“If I were you? I wouldn’t try so hard.”**  
                A metal crunch and the sound of a Titan powering down punched Liera in the gut.  
**“You’ll live longer.”**  
                The feed went quiet.  
                Liera’s heart throbbed behind her strained neck.  
“Interstellar Militia Network: Offline.” EV said.  
                The trembling started at Liera’s legs and slithered up her arms.  
“Paladin.” Maxson nodded to the door behind them.  
                Liera felt a hand on the crook of her elbow.  
“Come on…” Danse tugged.  
                She shook his grip off her, “Get Briggs on the line.”  
“Network: Offline.” EV answered.  
“Bish?”  
“Network: Offline.” EV repeated.  
“CINCFRONT Graves?” Liera choked.  
“Network. Offline.”  
“Get someone on the line, I don’t care who!” Liera shouted.  
“Pilot Lastimosa, all Frontier Militia channels are jammed.  The IMC has caused a network-wide blackout. Awaiting further instructions.” EV confirmed Liera’s worst nightmare.  
                The humming of the _Prydwen_ filled the Command Deck.  
“To your Quarters, Initiate.” Maxson whispered sympathetically, “Paladin Danse will see you there.”  
                A tinge of fear glinted in Maxson’s eyes.  Liera’s body jerked as she was pulled away.  Danse guided her around the ladder, her feet barely responding.  
“Pilot?” EV asked.  
**_“Stay down, Cooper.  BT, let’s go_!”** Tai’s last words halted all train of thought.  
                Liera failed to answer.  
_“Cooper…down…Dad, BT…Was it them that Blisk was fighting? Was it them who-“  
_ “Stay with me, Initiate.” Danse ordered.  
**_“We are from the carrier James MacAllan!  We’ve been shot down.”_** Jack haunted her.  
                Danse limped in front of Liera, shielding her from the scrutinizing Mess Hall.  
_“The MacAllan…shot down…”_  
“Pilot Lastimosa?” EV repeated.  
**_“If I were you?  I wouldn’t try so hard.”_** Blisk tested Liera’s sanity. _  
_ “No…further…instructions...” Liera heaved.  
**_“You’ll live longer.”_**  
                A door slammed behind her.  
“I…” Liera gasped, “Should be…” Her shoulders shook as her core erupted, “With…” She felt the bed underneath her when Danse forced her to sit, “Them…”  
“Breathe.” Danse instructed.  
                A painful breath reminded her that she was still alive.  
“Good.” He encouraged, “Keep going.”  
                Liera inhaled through her nose, and exhaled through her mouth, “They can’t…not like…”  
                The mattress sank as Danse sat next to her.  
                A tear collided with her boot, “God…fucking…damn it…”  
                Danse rubbed her back, “Don’t let them win. Don’t let him break you.”  
“You don’t know Blisk.  He’s a…he’s an _animal…_ ” Liera found her cigarette case sitting on a nightstand.  
                She reached for it, and it fell to the floor.  
                Danse leaned to pick it up.  
                He pushed a filter through her lips.  
                His orange arm retrieved her lighter.  
                Fire met the other end of her saving grace.  
                She inhaled.  
“You’re in shock.  You’ll get through this.” Danse consoled, stowing the lighter in his pocket.  
                She exhaled.  
“Maybe…But will they?” Liera pulled on the cigarette, wetting it with her lamenting.  
“There’s no way of knowing that right now.” He said.  
                Liera stood, opening her arms, “Combat. Intel. Specialist.” She pushed the SRS patch forward with her thumb, “They _trained_ me to know! They _trusted_ me, to _know!_ ” She cried harder, “I wasn’t even there when they needed me the most. I was here, poking under rocks and…I don’t even know what I’m looking for!”  
                The cigarette left a trail of smoke as she plugged her rambling.  
“You’re upset. I understand. But you can’t let it consume you.” Danse whispered, staring at a pile of boxes labeled, “Cutler.”  
“I just…” Liera unlatched her helmet and sat back down, “I don’t know _anything_ anymore.”  
“Not right now.  But you’ll figure it out.” He took the dangling cigarette from her and rubbed it against the steel wall, “ _We’ll_ figure it out.”  
                She crumbled as another gust of sorrow threatened to dismantle her.  
                Danse tossed the ashen stub in a wastebasket, and put Liera’s helmet behind them.  
                Liera wiped her running nose, “Thanks for-“ She hiccuped, “Having my back, out there.”  
“Of course.” He leaned on his legs.  
“Even my cat…” She started to cry again.  
_“I’m so fucking pathetic.”_  
“Do you want some time alone?” Danse asked.  
“No,” Liera wrapped her Boreum fingers around his, “Please don’t go.”  
                He looked at her, and she could see his pity.  
                Danse didn’t pull away from her. He didn’t look at her prosthetic hand with disgust.  He did something unexpected.  
                He wrapped his arm around her, and pulled her to his chest.  
                She felt him press the back of her head, her cheek crashing into him, and his chin resting above her forehead.  
                Liera clung to him as if he was the last thing keeping her alive.  
                And right now, he probably was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Militia distress transmission can be heard [ here ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cYDN9yjoqec) at 7:30.


	14. Field Promotion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"When linked to a Titan, a Pilot can only be stopped by an overwhelming force...Or an equal._  
>  _The Frontier has been the only home I’ve ever known._  
>  _For years, our lands have been destroyed by the IMC- forcefully taking our resources, polluting and destroying our planets..._  
>  _And killing us off if we try to resist._  
>  _Despite recent victories at Demeter and beyond, we have a long way to go before the IMC is defeated._  
>  _Now…I serve as a Rifleman in the Militia, fighting to free the Frontier._  
>  _I’m a long way from becoming a Pilot..._  
>  _But when that day comes…_  
>  _I hope I can live up to the honor."_  
>  -[Jack Cooper reflecting on Pilots and Titans Pt. 2](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VqeMjHmL9eg)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _"Jack Cooper's Reflection Video,"_ linked in summary text.  
> 

* * *

* * *

                 
                 he _MacAllan’s_ deployment lights signaled overhead, and a dropship pushed from its railing.  The alarms had stopped, as if they finished their job and went home for the night…The job being, putting the whole damn ship in a frenzy.  
                Jack waited for his own dropship to prep with three of his closest battalion mates: Veterans Mike Nelson, Troy O’Connor, and new-recruit Allen Lasky.  
                They watched the splinters of a shattered moon drift farther into outer space.  Pieces of it whisked away from the _MacAllan’s_ hull as it trekked through the stars.  
_“I’ve got a bad feeling about this…”  
_                 Command never talked about Operation Broadsword except from behind closed doors.  None of them seemed like they wanted to go through with it.  Graves took too long to give the go ahead. He never hesitated to pull the trigger on a mission proposed by Briggs, especially if it meant crippling the IMC.  
                Typhon was a sore subject across the board.  
“What do you think did that?” Lasky crossed his arms.  
                Jack gazed upon the moon with its middle carved from it like a cored apple.  
“Don’t know.”  
_“And I don’t want to know.”_  
                A flying Militia carriership blocked their view, and he turned away.  
“Those carriers have some intense propulsion units.” Nelson explained, “I bet their injector-stabilizing cores are twice the size of their fusion reactors.”  
“Okay, I have no idea what you just said, but I’ll take your word for it.”  
_“Show off.”_  
                To their left, the 9 th Militia Grenadiers loaded their equipment onto their assigned vessel, the _MacAllan 17._  
“Why don’t we get those fancy portable turrets like Cole’s guys?” Lasky frowned.  
“Hell if I know. Ask the Quartermaster. He makes that call, not me.”  
_“Not that I’d mind the extra fire power.”_  
                A Pilot with their helmet on his hip sprinted passed them towards the Titan Bay.  
“Never seen that Pilot before.” Lasky squinted, “Where’d they get all these pros?”  
                Jack loaded his rifle, putting the extra magazines in his ammunitions pouch, “There’s always Pilots for hire.  New ones defect from the IMC every day, as with most of their specialists.”  
_“Like Royal. Grenier. Bish. MacAllan. Barker…CINCFRONT Graves…”_  
“My dad was a top Pilot,” Nelson said, “That’s why I joined the Militia.”  
                O’Connor laughed, “My dad was the same, but for the IMC.  That’s why _I_ joined the Militia. I didn’t like my dad that much.”  
“ _My_ dad used to read me this Titan Wars kids’ book.” Lasky looked at another dropship being rolled onto a launchpad, “It was nothing like this _,_ though...”  
“I remember that book!” Nelson perked up, “I had all the trading cards!”  
“They’d better make cards of us.  That’s the main reason I’m doing this.” Lasky grinned, “Hey, Cooper. You ever try your dad’s Pilot Stim? I heard it boosts your reflexes way beyond normal.”  
“No. I’m not authorized to ingest that stuff.”  
“Pffft, _rules._ ” O’Connor grunted, “One time, I put two drops of Stim in my coffee. Couldn’t sleep for seven days.”  
“Don’t let the Sergeant hear you say that.”  
_“Idiot.”_  
“That reminds me…” Lasky patted his sides, “I had a dream last night I forgot my gun.”  
                Nelson scoffed, “Least you got some sleep.  My eyes haven’t closed in weeks.”  
                The four of them took a step forward in the deployment line as a drop pod fell through a latch.  
“Hey,” He elbowed O’Connor, “You a drop pod man, or a dropship flunkie?”  
“You calling me a flunkie?! I’ll kick your ass!”  
“Nah, my back’s killing me. I was just hoping you’d trade spots.”  
                A Titan hurriedly stomped down the hall, shuddering the floor underneath it’s legs.  
                Nelson watched, “When I was a teenager, I tried to build my _own_ Titan.”  
“How’d that turn out?”  
“Well, I’m not fighting with the Militia because I’m a computer genius.”  
                O’Connor put a hand on his shoulder, “I believe in you.”  
_“These guys…”_  
                Nelson swiped it off, “If I had a Titan, I’d raise hell on the IMC, big time.”  
“Sometimes all you need is a big pile of metal shooting fire out of its ass.” O’Connor agreed.  
_“Couldn’t have said it better myself…”_  
“You know what?” Nelson raised a fist, “We don’t need any Titans. We can kill just as many IMC without one.”  
“Hey,” Jack pretended to click his radio, “Bish just told me you’re getting a Titan!”  
“Don’t joke about that.”  
_“Or what?”_  
“I tried driving a Titan before.” O’Connor sighed, “Couldn’t even walk backwards.”  
“Oh yeah, hot shot?” Lasky poked him, “Ever see a guy get crushed by a forty-mill shell?”  
 “Listen greenhorn, if this is about another one of those videos you saw online, I don’t wanna hear about it.”  
“It was…You know, I was thinking one of these days we could jump on an enemy Titan and take it down somehow.”  
                O’Connor rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah…I was thinking the same thing.  And then I came to my senses.”  
“More of a solid plan than shooting at them with bullets like some of these guys.” Nelson nodded to the others in line, “It’s borderline ineffective.”  
“It’s like playing the lottery, buddy.” Jack yawned, “If you don’t play, you can’t win.”  
“Sure, a lottery of _death_ , maybe.” _  
_                 Pilots jumped on Titans all the time.  Got to the batteries that way.  
                You take down a battery well? Titan goes bye-bye.  
                Pilots had jump kits, though.  
_“Not sure how you’d get up there otherwise…”_  
“Sooooo…Cooper…I know your father technically is, but is it true your sister is anM-COR Pilot?” Lasky asked, starry-eyed.  
_“And is always a step ahead of me?”_  
“Yeah…She is. Liera’s pretty good at what she does.”  
“Where is she now?” O’Connor asked.  
“Can’t talk about it.”  
“Of course not.” Nelson grunted, “Damn SRS blacklists everything…Well, except from you.”  
_“Yeah, because I’m the ‘special’ Rifleman, right? Say it to my face, asshole.”_  
                Lasky shied away, “Think maybe you can answer a question for me then, Coop?”  
“What, now?”  
“How do Pilots go _UP_ the ziplines?”  
_“You’ve got to be kidding me…”  
_ “Jump kit thrusters, and really thick gloves.” Jack sighed.  
                Nelson looped his thumbs through his belt, “I bet _I_ could wallrun. If only I had a jump kit…”  
_“Doubtful. I’ve seen you in VR.”_  
“It’s not that easy. Takes years of training and its Hell on your knees.”  
                A MRVN unit halted them, “Deployment hatch: OFFLINE.”  
“You fucking serious?” Nelson barked.  
“Is there a problem, Rifleman?” Sergeant Rickman, their squadron leader, asked from behind.  
_“Great.”_  
                Nelson snapped his heels and held a salute, “No, sir!”  
_“You tone down when you’re talking to the guy who’s evaluating your promotion, don’t you?”_  
“Good. Why aren’t you guys down there yet?”  
                The ship rattled.  
_“What the hell?”_  
                Rickman’s face hardened, “Nelson, you need to get these guys on the next dropship.  I don’t wanna see your faces again until we’re on the field.  Got that?”  
“Yes, Sergeant!”  
                Lasky waited for him to leave, “You know what we really need? A pet Marvin.”  
“What for?”  
_“Smiley faces?  Sweeping the floors? Why did the ship shake like that?”_  
“Carrying ammo, gathering wounded, EOD, lots of stuff.  Think about it.”  
                The battalion crossed a rope railing, taking their place in another deployment line.  
                Nelson observed the robot, “I hear that Marvins were Hammond’s old pet project for a friend.”  
“ _REAL_ friends…” O’Connor winked at them, “The one thing money can’t buy.  Sounds like your typical rich guy for sure.”  
“Speaking of things money can’t buy…” Nelson eyed the others, “Heard some of the Riflemen were getting some sort of cloaking device.”  
                Lasky looked down at his waist, “I don’t have a cloaking device…Does _your_ suit have a cloaking device?”  
                Nelson leaned on his right leg, “I don’t even have a butt flap.”  
“Trust me, you’d know if you had one.” Jack rubbed his temples, “There’s an external part and the rest gets embedded in the skin. It’s pretty nasty.”  
“For a fucking butt flap?!” Lasky shouted.  
                The surrounding Militia soldiers looked at him, muffling their laughs.  
“No…A cloaking device…”  
“You have one?” Nelson nodded at him.  
_“Maybe.”  
_ “Rifleman Cooper.” A woman saved him from answering his question.  
                He was greeted by a pair of fond, brown eyes staring him down behind a retracted visor, “Pilot Talon.”  
“You…You know her?” Lasky gulped.  
“Cooper knows everyone he’s not supposed to.” O’Connor mumbled.  
                She beckoned Jack over.  
“Come on, Coop. Dropship’s almost ready…” Nelson whined, “We gotta get down there before Rickman comes back.”  
“You want to tell her ‘no?’”  
                He didn’t say anything.  
“I’ll be right back. Promise.”  
                Jack jogged to her side, his grin lowering into a frown, “Sage, what are you doing here?” He whispered harshly, “Why aren’t you with the rest of M-COR?”  
“Cole ordered me to come get you.  And honestly, I don’t want to see you get hurt.”  
                Jack and Sage had a history.  
                A history they kept to themselves.  
                One they established a few times in a nearby stock room.  
_“Maybe more than a few.”  
_ “Does this have something to do with the turbulence we hit?”  
“That wasn’t turbulence…” She looked behind him, watching his battalion mates wave their hands.  
“Ship’s in the green!” Nelson called.  
“We don’t have time for this.” Jack sighed, “Sarge said to-“  
                Talon pulled him closer, “Do you trust me?”  
“You know I do.”  
“Good.” She beckoned the others, cupping her mouth, “Nelson! O’Connor! Lasky! On me- _stat!”_  
“What?” They answered in unison, “We’re under orders from-“  
“Captain Cole to get your asses over here! Double time!”  
                It’s true, Pilots outranked Riflemen.  Very rarely did they interact, however.  
                To most Militia soldiers on the battlefield, Pilots were faceless warriors with one purpose alone:  
                Killing anything that moved.  
_“This can’t be good.”  
                _ The ship jerked harder and Jack stumbled, “Shit, Talon, what the fuck is happening?”  
“No time to explain.” She answered as they approached, “Alright, guys, get to the lifeboats and-“  
                The _MacAllan_ waned.  
                Yelling came from the other end of the hall.  
                Embers and smoke lined the windows of the Deployment Deck.  
                Talon took off, “Let’s move!”  
                The five of them ran down a hallway leading away from the ship’s exterior.  
                The walls were lit with the reflection of contact.  
                Jack looked over his shoulder.  
                Red, thick lasers obliterated a Militia airship. _  
_ An IMC Widow flew passed the window, splicing the smoke and debris.  
_“Fuck. This is bad.”_  
                The _MacAllan’s_ sprinkler system activated.  
                A loudspeaker clicked overhead, **“Militia 9 th Fleet! This is Bish from Broadsword Command! What’s your status?”  
**_“Bish and Briggs are lucky they’re not out here in this shit!”  
                _ The alarms came back, warranting more of a frenzy, this time.  
                The sprinklers pushed harder.  
                Jack and the others stopped at a row of lifeboats beaded with water that cut through a layer of dust.  
_“Hope these things still work...”_  
 “Where is Sergeant Rickman?!” Nelson shouted over the sirens.  
“Don’t know- doesn’t matter!” Talon shoved him, “Get in a damn lifeboat!”  
**“Broadsword Command, this is Militia 9 th Fleet!” **Major Anderson answered, **“We have been ambushed by Anti-Orbital Defenses at Planet Typhon!”**  
                Nelson turned as he climbed in, “Ambushed?!”  
**“The intel, was _wrong_!” ** Jack heard Grenier over the open SRS channel.  
                O’Connor climbed in a pod, “Today is about to _SUCK_!”  
**“This is Commander Briggs! _MCS James MacAllan_! Do you copy?!” ** Sarah echoed through the hall.  
                Lasky froze, “We’re…we’re not getting the distress signal through…”  
“Lasky!” Jack grabbed his shoulders, “You can’t freeze up now.  You gotta get in a pod and get outta here!”  
                He saw the fear in the 18-year-old’s eyes, the face of a man who had never seen conflict.  The face of a man who only wanted to fight for the right side.  
“O-okk-ay…“ He stammered as Jack dragged him.  
**“Talon, shit’s getting crazy!”** Miller screeched through her comms, **“If we don’t leave now, we’re not leaving at all!”**  
“Pilot Talon, I am on my way,” Her Titan urged from her helmet, “We are to meet at the M-COR carrier standing by.”  
“Copy that, ICE.”  
                Jack’s boots squeaked on the wet floor as he jumped to grab the panel of the lifeboat, “You’ll be fine! Alright?!”  
_“With any amount of luck…”  
_                 Lasky remained in a daze, shutting his eyes as the drop timer started.  
1 minute. _  
_ “Hey! Remember what we talked about? I finally figured it out!” O’Connor yelled as he pulled his harness over his chest, “Next time I take down an IMC Pilot, I know _exactly_ what I’m gonna say!”  
“What are you gonna say?!” Nelson called, buckling his last latch.  
“’Who’s the cannon fodder now, BITCH?!’”  
                The ship shuddered as it was struck.  
                A fiery breach lit the other end of the tunnel, steam pumping from the vents.  
                An evacuation horn blared.  
**“IMC on the port side! Port side!”** Captain Cole called over the radio, **“We’re taking hits!”  
                ** An airlock closed in front of the Militia personnel running towards them.  
                Their coughs and screams were grating.  
                And then their side of the door went quiet.  
30 seconds.  
“Jack, come on!” Talon pushed him in a pod, “You have to go!”  
“What about you?!”  
“Goddamn it Cooper, now isn’t the time to be stubborn!” Her hands met his chest, forcing him onto the damp seat, “Please…They need you down there with them, Jack.” The water dripped from her helmet.  
                He knew better than to prod an SRS Pilot.  
“Fine.” He pulled the brace down over his wet shoulders.  
“Be careful, okay?” Sage touched the side of his face, brushing the stubbles on his cheek with her thumb, “For me?”  
“Only if you do...”  
                She kissed him before pulling back, “I will.  I’m a Pilot, remember?”  
                The 10-second warning followed the slam of his lifeboat’s chamber.  
                A drenched ICE stormed down the same hall they had come from, scooping up Talon and shutting the cockpit around her.  
                The _MacAllan_ shook, and ICE struggled to maintain balance.  
“Get us to the drop!”  
                ICE slipped before he broke into a heavy sprint.  
**“This is no ordinary research operation!”** Sergeant Rickman said over Jack’s radio. **  
**_“_ _We know, Rickman.  We know.”_  
                Jack closed his eyes, and listened to the lifeboat’s communication relay as gravity released him.

 

…

 **“This is the** _ **MCS James MacAllan**_ ** _!_** **We are going down! I repeat, we are going down!”  
                ** Tai’s transmission forced Jack to face the ghastly planet sucking him into its atmosphere. **  
** The lifeboat spiraled out of control, and the bottom lit aflame.  The heat was enough to melt his consciousness.  
**“They’re jamming us hard! We’re not getting through!”  
               ** Pilot Grenier ripped through his slumber.  
                A flurry of spinning stars kept him dizzy like a frenzied hallucination.  
                He plummeted alongside three other lifeboats, their blazing trail leaving white tails amidst the black.  
His stomach was in knots, and sweat collected on his rattling lips.  
                His essence was below him, and his body was merely trying to catch up.  
                Freefalling never got easier.  
                The stabilizers on the lifeboat opened, and secured the observation panel in a single direction. His head snapped against the harness, clearing the dizziness brought on by halted velocity.  
                He was forced to watch a piece of the _MacAllan_ pierce the thunderstorm gathered beneath him.  
                Lightning struck the metal and highlighted a gargantuan shadow.  
                A flaming M-COR carrier spun crazily and clipped the lifeboat.  
                Jack was given the mercy of dulled senses, and land became a regretful acquaintance.

**…**

_MCS James MacAllan.  
_                 Those were the words painted on the side of the flaming heap- the demon that swallowed the sky with its smoking, gutted belly.  
                Tropical plants that would have been green any other night were stained orange with reflection.  
                Jack’s breathing stuttered, and he looked to the ceiling, begging anyone to put him out of his misery.  
“Mark VII Lifeboat Medical Unit: Activated.”  
                A female CPU answered his prayers upon his arrival on Planet Typhon.  
“Occupant: Militia Rifleman, Class Three, Jack Cooper.”  
                His eyelids flickered, and the ringing in his ears flatlined.  
“Stabilize. 250 milligrams of Sansufentanyl – Administered.”  
_“This is all just a dream, right?”_  
                The mechanical doctor unlocked, and the needle pressing in his neck told him otherwise.  
“Hngh…“  
                He heard the smack of his lips panting.  
                Ashes tickled the tip of his tongue.  
                The lifeboat vibrated savagely.  
“Caution: Temporary side effects-”  
                He felt as if he would burst at any moment.  
“Nausea,”  
                The CPU’s voice parted into an echo, and hoarse commands from Militia personnel were blobs of sound.  
“Dizziness,”  
                He gave a low-chested roar as his jellied hands slapped against the harness.  He forced his fingers to curl and his arms to push.  
 “Impaired motor coordination.”  
                The lifeboat’s hydraulics engaged, and the pod was filled with fumes in an instant.  
“Militia! Move up! We’ve got Spectres everywhere!” Nelson’s warning came like a slap from fate.  
                The drop of a body out in the distance was a reminder not to stay still.  
“He…lp…“ Acid burned its way through Jack’s throat.  
                The door ejected with an explosive measure, and he gripped the sides of the opening, watching the panel twist in the air.  
                Gunfire.  
                Everywhere.  
                First contact, IMC style.  
“Agh-” Jack pushed himself out of the lifeboat.  
                His hands flurried to break his fall.  
                The pin was pulled from his bile grenade.  
                He wiped his mouth, coughing at the slick mucus that flowed between the ridges on the slate ground.  
_“I hope Liera had a better landing…”_  
“It’s Cooper!” Nelson shouted, “Get him up!”  
                Footsteps. _  
_                 O’Connor pulled him to his feet, “We need to get out of here!”  
“Where’s Rickman?! What are our orders?!” Lasky called.  
“Get to firing positions!” Nelson responded, “We got more IMC Spectres coming this way!”  
_“Yes sir, ‘Sergeant’ Nelson!”_  
                Jack stumbled, yanking his radio from his hip.  
                He extended the antenna, “Are we near the drop zone?!”  
                O’Connor dragged him towards the others, hollering over the chaos, “We are _WAY_ off target!”  
“We _ARE_ the target!” Nelson fired at a troop of Spectres.  
                Dropships and more lifeboats littered the sky like an army of comets.  
                For the boots on the ground, it was a nightmarish wasteland.  Jack recognized three out of the fifteen faces sifting in the darkness, their shouts fading in and out between burst fire.  
                Nhuyen.  
“I can’t see _anything_!”  
                Cassanova.  
“Head for the landmark!”  
                Mabel.  
“Incoming debris!”  
                Nelson sounded like an injured animal, “MOOOOOVE!”  
                Thrusters failing.  
                Something heavy.  
                Trees breaking.  
                O’Connor pulled him by his collar.  
                An engine formed a fiery trench as it dug into the rocky surface, missing them only by a few yards.  
                Jack landed on his back.  
                His radio bounced out of his hands, and skidded away.  
“Watch out!” O’Connor fired in one arm, dragging Jack by the other, “Spectres!”  
                The group of robots came out of the fog, their single red eyes marking their identity.  Their exoskeletons stood at O’Connor’s height, and walked with an eerie pep in their step.  
_“A new model. Too human. Too excited to kill us.”_  
                A Militia Rifleman fell beside them, a fresh hole bleeding at the neck.  
                Their aim had improved, too.  
“RETURN FIRE!” Nelson threw a grenade.  
                O’Connor moved Jack behind a boulder, shooting his blindly pistol over his shoulder.  
                An empty “click,” forced him to holster it, “Damn it!”  
                Jack’s fingers pinched the radio’s antenna, just inches away.  
“We gotta push up!” O’Connor switched to his rifle slung around his chest, “We can’t stay here!”  
“Get on the radio!” Nelson shouted.  
“I’m trying!” Jack pulled the rectangle beacon closer.  
                He laid on his stomach, holding the radio sideways across his mouth.  
                His thumb held the call button, “This is Militia Rifle Battalion 41! We are from the carrier _James MacAllan!_ We’ve been shot down. Do you read? Over!”  
                No response came.  
                Dirt covered him as one of the robot’s grenades detonated nearby.  
“The Spectres keep coming!” Lasky screeched, “Where are they coming from?!”  
                Jack pressed his back against the boulder, taking deep breaths as the side effects started to wear off.  
                He spit on the microphone as he roared, “Do we have any Pilots in the area?!”  
                Jack held the speaker to his ear.  
_“Please…Please…Someone!”_  
**“This is Captain Lastimosa, I’ve got a fix on your location. On my way.”**  
“FUCK YEAH!” Lasky shouted, “BT and Daddy Lasti to the rescue!”  
“Hey!” O’Connor threw a brick of C4 in between Spectres, “I hit the gym this morning! I don’t know about you, but I can go all day like this!” He hit the detonation button, covering his ears.  
“Nobody likes you!” Nelson yelled.  
                Jack hooked the radio to his belt and aimed his Flatline rifle.  He fired upon his enemies alongside his friends.  
“Today’s my lucky day! I haven’t missed one shot!” Lasky called out.  
“That’s because you haven’t pulled the trigger!” O’Connor reloaded. _  
_ “I’m trying to be precise!”  
                Nelson vaulted over a boulder, “PUSH!” _  
_                 Jack stayed low as he followed him around a curve- O’Connor, Lasky and the others in tow.  The mountainous terrain was slick with blood and littered with Spectre parts.  
_“Don’t trip, anyone.”_  
                The Militia had suffered heavy losses, but the remaining forces were holding their own.  
                The unit pushed on.  
“You know what the best part of this job is?!” Lasky peeked over a part of the _MacAllan.  
_ “What?!” O’Connor yelled.  
“Beats the hell out of me, I was hoping you’d know!”  
                A whistle came from above.  
                The sound of the IMC sieging Angel City after they’d left it as a collection of huts, and returned to it as a metropolis.  
                The landing of something heavy crushing Jack’s home with his mother inside.  
                Jack’s limbs froze. His mind clammed up.  
                All he could do was watch, out in the open, like an idiot.  
                An idiot who really, _really_ didn’t want to die.  
“Hostile Titan! Hostile Titan! _RUN!”_ Nelson booked it.  
                It split from a silver case that landed on a few Militia soldiers.  
                Remnants of soldiers, now.  
                Jack was flung against a boulder and away from his squad.  His blurred vision and shaky hearing returned.  
“We can’t save him!” O’Connor pulled Lasky, “We’ve gotta get to higher ground, let’s _GO!”  
                _ Lasky fought for short second.  
                Jack crawled backwards on his elbows as the Titan went berserk, swinging its arms wildly and sending a chunk of the 41st Battalion flying in all directions.  
                A Militia woman frantically scurried away, and the Titan lifted its foot.  
_“No…don’t you fucking-“  
_                 The Titan smashed her like it was putting out a cigarette.  
                O’Connor and Lasky ran, and the Titan found Jack.  
                Two steps.  
                Two steps before the red lights and the silver Atlas chassis stood over him, dripping his comrade’s blood on his face.  
                Jack raised his arm, naively covering his head.  
_“I knew it. I’m going to die because of a FUCKING Titan!”_  
“IMC Titan acquired.”  
“BT!” Jack yelled instinctively. _  
_                 A missile caught the left shoulder of the enemy Ion, forcing it to regain balance instead of stepping on Jack.  
                All he saw were BT’s legs and the Ion’s arms in his orange and green hands. BT flipped it over his back, pinning it to the ground.  His acolyte pods extended, and unloaded two missile clusters into the IMC cockpit.  
                Jack’s injuries took hold of his frigid body.  
_“Can’t…move…”_  
                BT put the stock of his gun across his lap and dropped to a knee.  The cockpit opened, spitting out a Pilot.  
_“Hey, dad…”_  
                Tai scanned the area with his Alternator while running to his son.  
                When he got close enough his right hand slid under Jack’s shoulder pad, “Cooper, you’re in bad shape.” His blue visor looked around before locking on to a spot, “Hold on.”  
                He drug him underneath a bush with thick leaves that drooped over them.  Jack could only see a narrow window of BT standing guard.  
                Being the professional he was, Tai’s sight never left the clearing behind them.  His rifle remained at the ready, and his visor stayed level with his scope, even while digging in his pack for a Stim.  
“This might knock you out,” He looked to Jack for a split second to make sure he stuck him in the right place, “But you should be okay when you wake up.” His eyes were back to his gun.  
                Tai’s thumb pressed slowly on the injection handle.  
                The needle hissed, and Jack was rushed with a feeling he’d never experienced before.  
                It was more than adrenaline.  
                More than a day’s worth of caffeine or a nicotine buzz after chain-smoking a pack of cigarettes. _  
_                 It was overwhelming.  
                His body couldn’t handle it.  
“Lastimosa, hostile Titans inbound.” BT held up a vortex shield, “Apex Predators.”  
“Copy that, BT.” Tai looked at him, yanking the Stim from Jack’s chest, “Mercenaries.”  
                Tai stood, swiping the air with a flat hand, “Stay down, Cooper.” His jump kit pushed him to his Titan, “BT, let’s go!”  
                Jack’s throat constricted with failed words.  
                BT spun on his heel, catching Tai mid-jump. He encased him in the cockpit.  
                It was then that Jack saw the hulking Titan in the distance, aiming at his father.  
                BT sidestepped a laser shot, and charged the enemy, punching it’s face and crouching before firing another round of acolyte rockets.  
                Heavier steps came from Jack’s left.  
                Another Titan had arrived.  
                BT turned towards it, opening another shield and catching the heavy fire that followed.  
                The Titan marched into view- a crimson Legion chassis with one of the biggest cannons Jack had ever seen.  
                A third Titan materialized behind BT, stepping out of a silver cloud.  
                A Ronin class.  
                A Ronin that punched the case off BT’s battery well, and pulled two green cylinders from their sockets.  
_“No…”  
                _ BT fell forward.  
                The Legion backhanded him.  
                BT sparked.  
                The Legion kicked him.  
                Three rockets shot helplessly from BT’s back, missing their target.  
                As Jack lost consciousness, he hoped for the best and prepared for the worst…  
                So he thought.

**…**

Gunshots.  
                Three in count.  
                Close by.  
                Jack’s eyelids parted, and met the menacing scene.  
                The ashen sky held an underworldly hue, singing the stories of hellfire.  Embers wisped in the wind, dancing to the tune.  
                The red, scouring eyes of three Titans watched over a writhing soldier, painted with the Militia crest.  
                Smoke filled Jack’s lungs as he breathed in despair, locking eyes with the dying woman that clutched her chest.  
_“Please don’t give me away.”  
                _ He didn’t have time to feel bad for her.  
                Her mouth drained red streaks that ran down her chin.  
                She croaked.  
                A man with a drawn blade paced next to the now lifeless body.  
                The Legion opened its cockpit, and a blurred figure stood from a Pilot’s chair, “We have 18 hours! 18 hours until the Ark is sealed and ready for delivery!”  
                There was only one man who sounded like that.  
                The way he rolled his “R’s” and the deep-chested “I’s” were signature.  
                Jack heard him when the Militia sieged Hammond’s corporate building in the Frontier two years ago.  
“We don’t have to be against each other, Blisk.” Graves had tried to reason, “It could be us against the machines.”  
“Then how we gonna ever know who’s better?”  
“No person is better than another, Blisk.”  
“I disagree.” Blisk cackled, “You kill me, _you’re_ better.  I kill you, _I’m_ better.”  
_“Apex Predators…Mercenaries…Blisk is with them…”  
_                 The knife-wielder knelt to the corpse, and hacked at the side of her head.  He pulled her detached ear to his lips and spit on it, wiping it against his heavily furred cloak.  
“Oi! Richter!” Blisk jumped from his cockpit, and navigated through the bodies of dead Militia, “Leave the corpses alone, you sick bastard.”  
                Blisk punched Richter’s shoulder with a muscular arm, nodding to his Legion, “We’ve got a job to do, ey? We make corpses, we don’t clean them up. Let’s go.”  
                Richter looked back at Jack, and then jogged behind his commander.  
_“No, damn it…Dad…needs…me…”  
                _ He slumped into another dreaming state.

**…**

_“Jack, it might be IMC-issued, but Tai is right…If you ever found yourself stranded, that knife isn’t doing shit.” Sage giggled.  
“It’s the only thing I have from the man who created me.  More importantly, my mother gave it to me.  Sarah Cooper, not Evelyn.”  
“There’s no survivability in honor, sweetheart.” Her fingers ran through his hair.  
“I don’t keep this knife in ‘honor’ of anyone.” He clenched the hilt, “I keep it as a reminder that no matter how hard it gets out there…Abandoning my post isn’t an option.”  
                Jack took her hand in his, “I surrendered that choice when I joined the Militia.  I took on what my biological father wasn’t equipped to handle: Responsibility. Duty. Loyalty. I learned what it meant to not be like him.”  
                She smiled, “Well, I think the Lastimosas did a fantastic job.” Sage rested her head against his shoulder, “You’re a good man, Cooper.”_

                It was morning.  
                Either that, or the smoke had simply cleared.  
                Something wiggled, and there was a distant growling.  
                A hazed shape released the sounds of nightmares, and tugged at the corpse underneath it.  
                Jack blinked.  
                Snarling.  
                Wet breath.  
                He looked in front of him.  
                A brown beak.  
                Rows of teeth.  
“AH!”  
                A Prowler bit Jack’s knee guard, and pulled him from underneath the brush that had been his shelter.  
                He squirmed, trying to kick it with his other leg.  
                The four-legged creature ignored him, it’s scaly armor refusing to budge.  
                The other Prowler didn’t like that.  It’s companion’s prize was lively, not a bled-out snack left by one of Blisk’s men.  
                It swiped a claw at the Prowler that clung to Jack, letting out a dominate growl.  
                Jack’s leg dropped to the bedrock below.  
                The Prowler turned its attention to its pack mate, roaring as spikes rose from its back.  
                A warning, challenging a lesser, like a cat.  
                Dusty puffed up when he was angry, too.  
                The other Prowler took the hint, and continued eating the dried meat in front of it.  
                It was just Jack and his new Prowler friend, now.  
                He never had a friend that sought to devour him.  
  _“This is not what I meant when I said I’d try anything once.”  
_                 A machinegun peppered the Prowler’s thick hide.  
                Both the monstrosities cried and sprinted, kicking a body into the shallow stream behind them.  
                It floated away, and carried Jack’s worries of being disemboweled with it.  
_“Fast current. Stay out.”_  
“BT!” Jack scrambled to his feet, “Where is your Pilot?”  
                He jumped onto a flat slab of rock in the middle of the running water, dashing to the opposite shore.  
                BT twisted, using the cliff to pull himself up.  
                Jack halted in his towering shadow.  
                Sparks flew from BT’s twitching joints.  He tried to stand on his own, using the stock of his huge gun as a crutch.  
                But the chaingun fell behind him, and BT was brought to his knees.  
                BT flattened a patch of grass with his fists, and his cockpit dumped a heaving body on the ground. **  
** “Thank God, you’re alive!” Jack was in hysterics, “I thought-“ **  
** Tai’s breath came between gurgles.  
                He shakily pressed the button on his helmet, minimizing his visor.  
                His eyes fluttered, and his voice was weak, “BT…”  
                “Tai” and “weak” didn’t go in the same sentence.  
“H-hey…What’s wrong with you?”  
“…transfer authorization to new Pilot…Link...Brav-“ The coughs that escaped him were enough to make him buck forward.  
                Jack held the back of Tai’s head, and squeezed his hand, “What are you doing?!”  
“Bravo-Tango, Seven-Two-Seven-Four…” Tai’s words came like a spirit abandoning its host.  
                His eyelids barely had enough strength to stay open.  His jaw locked in pain. His arm strained and landed on Jack’s shoulder.  He pulled him closer.  
“Cooper!” He growled, “Take my Titan…my helmet…my jump kit…” He slumped, and his eyes closed.  
“HEY!” Jack shook him violently.  
“This…” Tai whispered, “ _This_ is the real thing, son…”  
                His face shuddered.  
                His mouth quivered.  
                His neck arched towards BT’s lifeless chassis.  
“Take care of him…”  
                His hand fell, and hit the ground with a “thud.”  
“Wake up!” Jack shook him again.  
                Tai didn’t listen.  
“Come on, pops, this isn’t naptime…”  
                You couldn’t  just take Captain Tai Lastimosa down in a matter of seconds.  
                A Legion couldn’t just kill a veteran of the Titan Wars with the help of a Ronin and some bullshit teleporting device no one’s ever heard of.  
                No, Tai was going to get up.  
                He was going to laugh at him, and tell him to get his shit together.  
                Tai was good at surprises, even though they _sucked_.  
                He had a dark sense of humor, because that’s how Pilots dealt with their shit.  
                Yeah, this was a joke.  
                And Jack wasn’t falling for it.  
“Tai.” He tapped his face.  
                No response.  
“Tai?” He grabbed his chest plate.  
                Not even a blink.  
“TAI!” Jack’s blood-curdling shout sent birds soaring from the trees.  
                Silence.  
                This couldn’t happen.  
                Was his luck really that shitty?  
                That he never knew his real father, watched his mother be killed and his sister get deployed to a planet lost to the ages…That he would witness the man who raised him die at the hands of Kuben Blisk?  
                Who’s life was that tragic?  
                He hugged Tai’s cooling body to his cheek.  
“Dad…”  
                Jack didn’t cry when he arrived as an orphan from Angel City.  
“Please.”  
                His eyes watered now because he _had_ met his real father, through circumstance.  
“Don’t.”  
                Because the man who had taught him to walk, would walk no more.  
“Leave.”  
                Because the surprise he wanted most, was a surprise that would never come. _  
_ “Me.” _  
_ Jack cried because whether he created him or not, Tai Lastimosa was his father…  
  
                And his father was dead.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Behind the Scenes:**  
>     
> [Shattered Moon](https://www.artstation.com/artwork/J3yka)  
>   
> [Crash Site Art](https://www.artstation.com/artwork/NKbY5)  
>   
> [MCS James MacAllan](https://www.artstation.com/artwork/x2JdO)  
>   
> [Field Promotion on YouTube ](https://youtu.be/lWnvWbd4KGo?t=10m29s)  
>   
> **WARNING: Stop at 16:40 to avoid spoilers.**  
>   
>  **Author's Notes:**  
>   
>  This was a hard one to write, considering the context. :(
> 
> Thanks [jab279](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10939161/chapters/24339429) for helping me out.


	15. Shadow of Steel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Never fear shadows. They simply mean there's a light shining somewhere."_  
>  -Ruth Renkel

* * *

 

* * *

                ain pummeled the globe of the _Prydwen._   The walls were frothy with humidity, and a poster peeled above the bed.  Cutler’s old bed.  
                Danse’s jumpsuit was wet over his heart from Liera’s sobbing.  He hadn’t known what to do after she cried herself to sleep…So he laid with her, and didn’t let go.  
                He tried to decrypt the ghostly mumbles that escaped her.  An occasional “Dad,” or “Jack,” or “BT,” and the tears that followed were key enough that she was stuck in a nightmare, one she’d given herself no time to process- only time to react.  
                Danse knew what that felt like.  He experienced it after he killed his best friend.  He had the same nightmares after he was forced to shoot Cutler, and revisiting them was not how he imagined his first time in bed with a woman.

…

_The stream sloshed around Liera’s ankles.  BT stood at the shore, waving.  She giggled and flailed a small hand, “Hi BT.”  
“Hello.”  
“What are you up to?” Tai put his hands on his hips, looking down at her, “We’re not going to catch any fish if you’re scarin’em off, girl.”  
“Sorry...”  
                He picked her up, and returned her to a sandy bank.  
“Dad, I think I got one!” Jack called from downstream.  
“That’s great!” He looked at BT, “Watch her for a minute?”  
“Of course, Pilot.”  
“Thanks buddy.  You make this whole parenting thing a hell of a lot easier, you know that?”  
                Tai ran away, taking Jack’s wrists in his hands, “I think you got one this time, Coop.  Let’s reel it in.”  They spun the rod’s handle, “Okay, now pull it back- No, that’s way too hard.  You’re gonna’ snap the line, kid.”  
                Liera lost interest and plopped, “I like it better when he takes us to the lab.”  
“Pilot Lastimosa says it’s too nice of a day to be inside.”  
                She pouted, “But there’s nothing to take apart…”  
“You did it!”  
                Liera twisted and saw a wiggling fish on Jack’s line, almost as big as he was.  
                Tai scooted him away from the water, “Go put him in the bucket, now.  One more and we’ll have a fine meal tonight.”  
“Wait, we have to kill them? I can’t keep them as pets?”  
“Jack…”  
                Liera grimaced, and turned back to BT.  A metal fist that matched her in size waited patiently, clutching a purple flower.  
“You can take this apart.”  
                She took it anxiously, and crawled to a patch of lush grass next to him, “Thanks BT.”  
“You are welcome.”  
                She crossed her legs and plucked the petals.  When the stem was bare, she picked one up and tried to reattach it.  The petal fell on her lap.  
“BT, it won’t go back on.” She blew it off, “I can’t fix it.”  
                BT crouched, his ocular hub towering above for what seemed like miles, “There are some things in life you cannot fix.”_

  
                Liera’s right nostril was clogged.  Her eyes were itchy and sore.  Everything hurt.  A Brotherhood insignia brushed against her nose.  She pushed it away, yelping at the body her hands met.  
“It’s just me.” Danse patted the wrists pinned against his chest.  
                She lifted her head, finding him through the dim light.  The place where his arms protected her fell cold, leaving her in a violent shiver, “Wha-what are you doing?”  
“You fell asleep, and asked me to stay. I didn’t want to wake you up…”  
                Her face burned even hotter than when she was crying in his arms.  
_“Oh, right…That.”  
                _  Liera swung her legs over the edge of the mattress, finding her helmet on a nightstand.  It wobbled in the watery shield blocking her eyes.  
“Can I get you anything?” He asked.  
“I need a shower.  Maybe something to drink.”  
                Her chin fell, and she squeezed her eyes shut.  
_“Stop fucking crying.”_  
“Coffee sound good?”  
“Sure…”  Her voice cracked.  
                The bed creaked under her.  Liera inhaled sharply under Danse’s touch.  His hand gripped her shoulder, “Look at me.”  
                Liera shook from uncontrolled sadness, and a tear splattered on her boot.  Her fists balled in her lap, “I don’t want you to see me like this.  I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one day.”  
“You shouldn’t be embarrassed.” His fingers tightened, “You’ll be okay.  You’re safe here.”  
                She wiped her face, “Look, I…I just want to wash this shit off me.”  
                Danse leaned up, and pointed to a blue sheet in front of them, “First curtain is the changing stall.  Behind the second is the shower nozzle.  Blue knob is cold, red knob is hot.”  
“Thanks.” Liera stood, keeping her face away from him.  _  
_                 She rushed to the curtain, and disappeared behind it.

…

                Warm vapor wafted through the kitchen.  Danse brushed his fingers through his hair.  He observed the silent helmet on the desk, wondering if EV was listening.  
“Pilot Lastimosa?” A low voice came from across the room.  
                Danse stiffened.  
_“That’s a yes.”  
_ “It’s just me right now…” _  
_ “How is Liera?”  
                He rubbed the back of his neck, “She’s okay as she can be.  I’ll try to get her down there soon.”  
“That would be ideal.”  
                A creak came from the shower, and the mist settled.  
                Danse leaned against the counter.  Coffee dripped into a pot, filling their quarters with a homey scent.  He remembered how Liera felt in his arms, and how he didn’t mind the cramps that followed.  He caught himself smiling.  
_“She may have just lost her family, and you’re her Sponsor.  What’s wrong with you?”  
                _ Zippers and fumbling fabric from around the corner muted his thoughts.  The rings above the curtain collided. Boots squeaked on the _Prydwen’s_ floor.  
_“Besides, she’ll be gone after the rest of the Militia take her home…assuming there’s any of them left.”_  
                The coffee maker gurgled, and a red light flickered.  Danse sifted through a cluttered shelf, finding two mugs. He poured slowly.  
_“But what if they don’t?  What if there isn’t?”  
_  “Hey.”  
                Danse almost missed his mark, leaving a streak on the side of the white cup.  He was startled by a lingering figure, gripping its arm shyly.  
                Liera stood at the mouth of the kitchen with slick strands of hair sticking to her face. She wore a dirtied tank top, and her jumpsuit was unzipped to her waist with the sleeves tied in a knot.  Her right arm sparkled, matching the slivers on the shaved side of her skull.  
“Please, have a seat.”  
                Without objection, the grips of a chair skidded across the floor.  Liera took her place at the farthest edge of the drafting table.  
_“You look out for her like the rest of your team, that’s what.”_

…

  
                Danse handed her a full cup, “Thanks.”  
“Sure.” He sat at the edge to her left.  They were separated by a corner, a lot more distance between them than when she woke up.  
                Liera gripped the mug with both hands, keeping it just below her mouth.  She sipped it sparingly, allowing the steam to null her raw nose.  
“Sorry.”  
_“For making you look bad, for dragging you into this, for not telling you everything.”  
                _ She wasn’t sure which one she was apologizing for, but it felt right.  
“You have nothing to be sorry for.”  Danse leaned back in his chair, “I doubted you, but after hearing what we heard back there, I don’t know how anyone could.”  
“Nora does.” Liera drank her coffee, losing herself in the ripple, “Nora. Fucking. Hammond.”  
                Dr. Hammond, the founder of the IMC.  The man who forcefully introduced Titans and enacted martial law.  He who's lineage survived centuries, most recently by two daughters: Evelyn and Nora, a woman whose name was lost to the Frontier.  
_“She doesn’t know who I am.”  
_                 Liera remembered when Tai told her who her mother was, how Evelyn broke away from her cursed bloodline.  
_“She became a Patron of the Militia.”  
_                 Her grip tightened around the shaking cup. Her jaw strained up to her ears, and her teeth hurt from grinding against each other.  
_“She became Evelyn Lastimosa.”_  
                Glass popped and the shards chattered across the table. The mug’s contents trickled through her fist.  Liera unclenched her palm, watching the coffee overtake the porcelain dust like blood in the snow.  
                Danse wiped it away with his sleeve. Her synthetic nerves tingled at his touch- a feeling that was almost real.  
                A pin-prick of heat chiseled at the ice that stilled her heart.  
                Her chair fell backwards as she ripped her hand from his grasp and shot to her feet.  A few strides put her next to her helmet, and she jammed it over her head.  
“Where do you think you’re going?” He chased after her.  
_“Survive. Evade. Resist. Escape.”_  
“I need to be alone.”  
                She found the door.  Locked. Holotag authorization required.  
_“Shit.”  
_ “You can’t.” Danse separated her from her freedom, “I’m not allowed to leave you unsupervised.”  
“I’m not asking.” Liera pushed her face at his, “I’m gathering my belongings and I’m leaving.”  
“You’re walking a very, very dangerous line, soldier…”  
“You think you people can keep me here?”  
“I’m sure you could escape if you really wanted to, with the help of EV.”  The scar that separated his eye creased and became a visual warning, “But you won’t.”  
“Is that what you think?” _  
_ “Yes, because you’re smarter than that.  You’re a survivor.  And I don’t care how much EV knows, or how much you _think_ you know, because the bottom line is: You don’t know a damn thing about the Commonwealth.” Danse jabbed a finger into her chest, “ _That’s_ why you won’t leave.”  
                He pressed into her skin, a lightning rod for strikes of anger and pain. They shot through her like the paddles in Medical, kick-starting her frigid soul.  
“I need to fix EV.” She stuttered.  
“What you _need_ is to calm down, and remind yourself who you’re talking to.”  
                The fire that burned her chest hushed, and the candle of perseverance quieted.She didn’t need her jump kit to take her all over the place.  She was doing just fine on her own.  
“You’re under an immense amount of stress, so I’ll let your outburst slide.”  
                He was no longer the gentle man who’d been taking care of her.  Paladin Danse had returned, and he was pissed, “I told her I’d take you down this afternoon.  We’ll go after you put something in your stomach.”  
“I’m not hungry.”  
“I don’t care.”  Danse dug in his pocket and a chain dangled through his fist, “I expected more discipline out of a decorated combatant.”  
                Liera opened her hand, and her dogtags plopped in her palm.  Her blood-crusted locket was tangled between two Militia plates:  
LASTIMOSA  
LIERA  
062535543  
AB NEGATIVE  
11.06.63  
UNIT: M-COR  
RATING: PILOT  
                Liera slung them around her neck.  
_“You’re a Marauder.”  
_                 She clicked the locket, and found Tai and Evelyn inside, poorly cut to fit.  
_“You’re the daughter of a man who’d smack you if he caught you acting like this…and a woman who redeemed herself after being born on the wrong side of history.”_  
                Liera inflated her sleeves with her arms, and pulled the zipper to her neck.  
_“You’re better than this.”  
                _ Her silver hand glinted under the lights, “Are my gloves here?”  
“They’re with the rest of your gear in Teagan’s possession. Their material is unknown to us, and the one you wear on the right is imbued with advanced technology.  Maxson asked us to study them.”  
“Why didn’t you just ask me?  I’ve been honest about everything else I’ve told you.”  
“At the time, we were more concerned with what you _didn’t_ say.”  
                She held her wrist and flexed her fingers, “I get that, but…”  
_“No one’s going to accept me with this thing.  They think I’m a ’Synth.’”  
_ “But what?” _  
_ “Nothing.” She clicked the side of her helmet.  
                One by one, the hardlight hexagons of her visor built her retreat. _  
_                 Danse swiped his holotags across the door’s latch and tugged the handle, “After you.”  
                There were others bustling through the hall.  Liera was vulnerable without her gear.  She felt stagnant without her jump kit ready for a quick exit; without her Grapple to pull her out of a dire situation.  
                She gulped, and waited for him to lock up behind him before they continued.  
“Hello, Pilot.” EV wrote.  
“Hey, EV…”  
“I am worried about you.”  
“I’m in good hands.” She eyed Danse, “Don’t worry.” _  
_                 Various soldiers held a salute as they progressed, only to resume their travels after he passed.  He’d simply return a nod, and keep it moving.  Liera didn’t fully understand their ranking structure, but it was becoming apparent that “Paladin,” held more weight than she’d given him credit for.  
_“Major Anderson caused this kind of disruption wherever he went.”_  
“I have done everything I can to assist the Brotherhood and make myself essential.  Removing the Super Mutant bodies from the airport and informing Proctor Ingram of my technological capabilities was a ‘good start,’ I was told.”  
“Don’t push yourself too hard…”  
“I have reviewed the notes in your logs.” EV admitted, “I believe we are capable of making the necessary repairs within a few hours.”  
“Hope you’re right.”  
                The corridor opened into the Mess Hall.  Rhys and Brandis sat at the far end of a long table, the lower half being occupied by 6 Brotherhood soldiers who picked at their food.  Their necks twisted to them, and then targeted Liera. _  
_                 A warm tinge crept around her cheeks.  Instead of facing them, she studied the wall of Brotherhood holotags.  
_“We Remember the Fallen.”  
                _ Each curved peg held a single pair with a name written above them.  The board had run out of space, and nails were hammered into the walls of the _Prydwen_ Herself.  
                The names of the Militia burned in her mind.  Her hands squeezed, and she bit her lip.  
_“Keep it together.”  
                _ Danse left her side. _  
_ “Lastimosa,” Rhys strode across the room.  He placed a hand on her back, “Saved you a seat. Come on.”  
                Liera allowed Rhys to guide her to the seat he previously sat on- the one closest to the wall in a corner.  She sat across from Brandis, and Rhys sat to his left.  Her neck creaked, glimpsing at the 6 soldiers two seats away from her.  
“That’s Gladius’s new recruit.” The woman at the other end whispered, “They barely made it out of Cambridge.”  
“Check out her hand.  Solid steel from the looks of it.”  
                Liera shoved it under the table and gripped her knee.  Her leg bounced with anxiety.  
“What’s that visor made of? Why’s it shaped like a spider with four legs?”  
“Better yet, why is she wearing it? Got something to hide?”  
“She’s probably nervous.” The woman looked at Rhys, raising her voice, “Heard you guys had a close call out there.”  
“’Close’ doesn’t begin to describe it.” Rhys chewed, “I watched Haylen slip away. I thought for sure we lost her.”  
“Would have been a shame.  Haylen is the Scribe of our time.”  
“Hell yeah, she is.” He smiled.  
                Danse slid a tray in front of Liera, sitting next to her.  
“Paladin Danse.” A man greeted, “Evening, sir.”  
“Good evening, Scribe Wolfe.  Squad Lynx.”  
                They gave him a unified salute.  
“I’m sorry to hear about Knight Sergeant Dawes and the rest of them.” Wolfe said.  
“It was a difficult tour.  I’m thankful Haylen made it home.  My condolences for Paladin Nolan, he was a good soldier.”  He watched Liera out of the corner of his eye and mouthed, _“Eat.”_  
                She sighed at the sandwich, cup of fruit and canned liquid he gave her.  She wasn’t sure what her meal was made with, and she didn’t care.  She clicked her visor closed, and kept her face low.  
“Haylen’s awake.” Rhys took a sip from his can, “Asked if we could stop by, Lastimosa included.”  
“I’ll try to arrange a meeting for all three of us to visit.”  Danse bit into an apple.  
                Liera took a chunk out of her sandwich, chewing it viciously.  
_“Not bad.”  
_ “Who’s Lastimosa?” Wolfe asked.  
                Rhys nodded to Liera, “Her.” _  
_                 She gave them a two-fingered, one-thumbed wave before taking another bite.  
“Knight Essen.” The woman said, “Nice to meet you.”  
                Liera swallowed, “Likewise.”  
_“Please stop talking to me.”  
_ “I saw the dead Behemoth when we parked.” Wolfe said to Rhys, “How did you guys take that thing down?”  
“I’ll give you one guess.”  
“The big ass robot down there?”  
“Yeah, and her name is EV.” Rhys corrected, “She’s a Titan.  Initiate Lastimosa is her Pilot.”  
                Liera lifted her chin.  
_“Unexpected, coming from you.”  
_ “What do you mean… _name?_ Pilot?”  
_“Not this again...”  
_ “Give her some space.” Danse interjected, “You’ll learn, soon enough.”  
“Yes, Paladin.”  
                Danse ate patiently beside her.  
_“How do you always know?”  
_ “Terrorists…” Brandis mumbled, “Marauders…”  
                Liera froze.  
“Come on, Paladin Brandis.” Rhys stacked his empty tray on top of his, “Time for your second dose.”  
                Brandis didn’t move.  He and Liera were locked in a staring contest.  
_“You know something.”_  
                Rhys placed a hand on his shoulder, “Let’s go.”  
                Liera wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, watching them leave.  
“We should get going soon, too.” Danse stretched, “I’m guessing we’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.”  
“Yeah.”  
                They ate quickly, and Liera listened to the heightened whispers.  
“Were you here when Danse drug her through the Hall?”  
“Yeah.  Not sure what that was about.”  
“I hear she’s from a different planet…”  
“From who?”  
“Overheard Ingram and Quinlan talking.  Shits about to get crazy.”  
“Let’s focus on one thing at a time.” Essen quieted them.  
_“Like minding your own fucking business.”  
_ “We’re dealing with our own losses.  Once we figure them out, we can worry about everything else.” She finished.  
                Liera frowned at the empty tray in front of her.  She chugged the can of water.  
“Ready?” Danse asked.  
“Sure.”  
                They put their dishes on a stack above a trashcan, and left the speculating Mess Hall.  The ladder she encountered before had two shifting suits of Power Armor guarding it.  
                Danse climbed down, and she followed.  She landed with her back to the Command Deck.  
Maxson was busy speaking to someone heavily armored with a sniper rifle strapped to their back.  
                They caught her staring, pausing in their conversation.  
                Liera chased after Danse through a door labeled, “Flight Deck,” and a cold, overcast sky shone through the open frame.  A metal bridge stretched into an expanse of haze.  The view wasn’t much in the crap weather, but the fresh air was revitalizing after being stored in the stale ship.  
                She fell in line when Danse broke away from the main walkway.  Her fingers traced the railing, peeking over it.  EV’s blue eye watched them from below, a single light piercing the rolling mist.  
                A man saluted them, and a brief dialogue between he and Danse ensued.  She couldn’t hear them over the engines of a smaller aircraft on standby.  The man handed him a pair of headphones, and Danse disappeared into the cabin, “You coming?”  
                Liera was accustomed to flying, but not without her jump kit. Any mechanical miscalculation would end in a fiery death.  Her gut clenched.  She drank the last drip of courage boiled down from the day, and stepped in.  The floor rocked at her entry.  Danse offered a hand- one she took without hesitation.  She sat across from him, and pulled a belt over her chest.  
                The man shut the sliding door behind him before heading to the cockpit, retrieving an aviator’s helmet from the dashboard. He put it on, pulled a few levers, and clicked buttons that signaled green overhead.  
**“Diagnostics test 2.1:  All Mark VIII lifeboats are in the green.”** The _MacAllan’s_ loudspeaker clicked in her mind. **  
**_“Lifeboats…maybe they got to them in time…”_  
                Danse tapped the speakers over his ears.  
“Patch us in, EV.” Liera closed her visor.  
“Affirmative.”  
“Can you hear me now?” He asked through the microphone extended over his mouth.  
                She nodded.  
 “Good.” He turned his head to a small window.  
                The vessel dropped unexpectedly.  Liera clutched both armrests, lurching forward.  Two wings extended and broke their fall.  
“You’re not the same recruit we pulled from the airport, are you?” The aviator asked.  
“She is.  She wouldn’t remember, though.” Danse answered over the radio.  
“Ah.  Well, welcome aboard _Vertibird 17_. Again.”  
**“Confirmed.  3rd Militia Grenadiers, prep _Dropship MacAllan_ _17_.” ** Cole’s voice filled her ears.  
                Liera leaned back, and a sigh heaved her chest. _  
_                 The Vertibird course-corrected, and EV’s beacon numbed her throbbing heart.

…

                Liera stepped out first. A ventilation system filled the airport with the sounds of waves.  Another Vertibird sounded overhead, like a waning rocket tearing through the clouds.A hammer beat something into place.  Three distinct beeps came from her left as a vehicle backed up, raising an offering to EV on a pair of metal arms.  
                EV picked up the Brotherhood of Steel-branded barricade, and carried it to a spot designated by a soldier guiding her. _  
_ The Brotherhood was building, and EV was helping them.  
                Danse shielded his face from the fading drizzle, “Looks like EV’s been busy.”  
                EV’s right knee released a plume of smoke as she tried to close the distance between her and her Pilot.  
“She’s injured.” Liera’s voice strained.  
                She took a step forward, and then back.  
“Go ahead.  I’ll catch up.” Danse said.  
                Liera followed his orders with a walk that evolved into a jog, taking the final form of a sprint.  She thought she would be lighter without the jump kit shifting above her hips, but without the propulsion, she felt slow. _  
_ Her stride opened.  Her metal knees propelled her legs.  Her heels dug into the ground.  
                EV crouched, “Pilot, it is-“  
                Liera collided against the cockpit, wrapping the doors in a hug.  
“-good to see you.”  
“You, too.” She snuggled against her, “How are you?”  
“I am…” EV’s ocular hub dimmed, “Sad.”  
“I know.” She pulled back, placing her hands on either side of the shifting bulb, “We’ll be okay.”  
                EV’s arm jerked, and she wrapped a pair of fingers around Liera’s back in an awkward hug.  
_“Keep it together.”_  
                She wiped her nose, “I have to charge my helmet.”  
“Affirmative.  Losing contact with one another would be disruptive to the mission.”  
“Can’t let that happen…” Liera pulled the tether from EV’s chassis.  
                Her fingers traced behind her head until she found an outlet.  She plugged herself in, her visor was brighter now that saving power was less of a priority.    
                Together, Liera and EV looked up at the _Prydwen,_ floating above them like a looming warden.  
_“About the size of the 9 th Fleet’s smallest carrier.”_  
                Danse jogged next to them, “Afternoon, EV.  Thanks for not blowing us out of the sky.”  
                Their bright blue lights turned to him simultaneously.  
“Protocol 3: Protect the Pilot.” EV answered.  
“Hmph…”  
                Liera patted her suit, “You took my minitool set?”  
“I found these in the Vertibird.” He offered a compact of tools that looked like they were bent at some point, only to be hammered straight, “You only need them to get to your toolbox, right?”  
“That’s a yes, then?”  
“Correct.”  
                She snatched the kit out of his hand, “Thanks.”

…

                EV’s arms took an hour per limb to repair, and the rest of her only required routine maintenance.  Her right leg was proving to be a project.  Liera was balanced on EV’s armor, her torso hiding in the chassis.  
                Danse sat on EV’s foot, flipping through the pages of the manual, “How did you read this for so long?”  
“My dad and I helped write it.” Liera reached below her, “Circuit mender.”  
                Danse pinched his bridge, “We’ve been over this.”  
“Number 3.”  
                He shifted through the tools, finding one with the specific number. He passed it up, unfolding a trifold diagram, “What’s ‘Lastimosa’s Armory’?”  
                Liera’s voice bounced up the service chamber, “My family designed the swappable core technology in the Vanguards. Used to be you could only have one specialization per Titan.”  She paused, “We also designed these prosthetics.  Well, my mom did...”  
                He heard a sadness in her voice, “I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t be bothering you with questions.”  
                EV held a panel, watching Liera pull herself out. She started to climb down, “I don’t mind.”  
_“Good, because I’m sure I’ll have more.”_  
Danse continued to read, _“Troubleshooting Guide 2153: Limb Repair.  Titan get injured giving the IMC hell?  Good.  That means you did something right.  After following the aforementioned guides, follow these simple steps to get back in the fight:-“  
_                 Liera hit the ground on her back.  A tool bounced out of her mouth.  Danse tossed the manual, and rushed to her side.  
“Keep forgetting I don’t have my jump kit…”  Liera grabbed his hand, “It’d be nice to have it back, you know.”  
                Danse pulled her up, “You’ll get it when you’re mentally stable.”  
“Pilot Lastimosa is exhibiting symptoms of severe Acute Stress Reaction.  Further suspension is advised.” EV twisted, holding the panel in place against her leg.  
                Liera wiped the grease from her hands on her pantlegs, “Who’s side are you on?”  
“I only mean to assist in your recovery, Pilot.”  
                She snatched the tool from the ground, “Yeah, well you can ‘assist’ me by helping me get my shit back.”  
“My notes on your mental evaluation following the death of Pilot Royal indicate that anger is one of the five steps of grieving.  The meaning of this anger directed at me is a sign of psychological projection.  Please rectify.”  
                Liera’s knuckles turned white, and the wrench trembled under her fury.  
                Danse knew better than to get in between two fighting women, but he had a difficult time watching her push away the being that cared for her most.  
“You’re right.  There’s no reason to be mad at you.”  Liera marched to the metal cover EV held, “I just wish we could’ve been there…”  She pulled a handful of bolts from her pocket, and placed them in their slots.  
                EV watched her, “Our presence onboard the _MCS James MacAllan_ would have had minimal impact on the events that occurred during Operation Broadsword.”  
“I’m not worried about the crash.  I’m worried about what they encountered when they landed.” Her cranking wrench paused, “Maybe I wouldn’t have died on impact.  We could have saved more lives…” She continued working, “No, I won’t insult the Militia by making this about us.  We’re only small pieces of a big puzzle, and I don’t have the answers.”  
                Another band of rain padded the cement.  Danse tucked the manual in his suit, “Not yet, but I’m hopeful that time will come.”  
“Damn right it will.  The Militia may be out of reach, but they’re still up there, and the IMC has Hell to pay.”  
                Water slid through the intricacies of Liera’s helmet.  The tool’s handle spun in her hand, and the lower half of EV’s armor tightened against her leg.  EV raised Liera to the top where she secured the other half.  
_“She climbs all over her so fearlessly.”  
                _ Danse measured EV’s size, and cocked his head.  
_“I can’t imagine seeing a group of these things in the field.  I can’t say I wouldn’t love having one, though.”  
_                 Liera stepped out of EV’s hand, “Let’s see if you can stand without that leg sparking.”  
                She eyed Liera’s patchwork suspiciously.  
“Come on, I think I did a pretty good job considering there’s no Titan Bay around.”  
                EV pushed herself up.  She stumbled backwards at first, but corrected herself.  Her leg fully supported her weight, and she gave them a thumbs up, “System diagnostics report: 100% operational.”  
“Great.” Liera cracked her neck, “Just have to fix your gun and we’ll be set.”  
                Watching her act so serious with a string running from her helmet reminded Danse of a leashed child, one that wandered away if their parent wasn’t watching.  
_“Warden and Maverick.  Becomes more fitting every day.”_  
                EV removed her weapon from her back, and placed it next to them. It was the size of the Vertibird, if not longer.  
“I’m glad we were assigned to the same team.” Danse pulled the manual out as the rain lessened, “I think we can learn a lot from each other.”  
“Ready to ‘learn’ how to fix a railgun?” Liera twirled her tool. _  
_ “Standing by.” He opened the table of contents, “Railgun… _Vanguard_ Railgun. There it is.”  
“Your patience is infuriating.”  
                He chuckled, “So I’ve been told.”

…

  
_“The Railgun has multiple modes of combat: Chaingun, Plasma Shot, Close-Ranged Buckshot, Long-Ranged Sniper Cannon, Thermite Launcher, Sword Handle-“  
_ “Number 6.”  
                Danse’s eyes flitted from the pages to the opened box next to him.  He handed the numbered tool over his shoulder, and his open grip lingered after Liera took it from him. She slapped another in his palm, and he lowered it into the toolbox.  
_“Number 3.  I better leave this one on top.  She uses it a lot.”  
_                 His attention returned to the book on his lap.  
  _“The Railgun is the most important weapon in a Titan’s arsenal.  Without it, a Pilot and Titan leave themselves vulnerable to enemy capture. See Index 21 for Survive, Evasion, Resistance, Escape (SERE) guidelines.”  
  
_ “Pilot, that is the wrong wire.”  EV hovered overhead.  
“You told me to clip the red one.”  
“That wire is orange.”  
                A growl erupted from inside the railgun.  
                Danse peaked over his shoulder, reading the stenciled words, “Lift Here,” with an upward arrow pointing away from the ledge of the gun he sat on.  He licked his thumb, and flicked to the index in the back of the manual:  
  
_“Pilots undergo Level C SERE training for troops whose position, rank, or seniority put them at high risk of enemy capture.  This makes Pilots vulnerable to greater-than-average exploitation efforts by any captor.  Here are bulleted reminders of your training should you find yourself stranded behind enemy lines, or alone in the wilderness:  
  
* Survive- Firecraft, Sheltercraft, Traps and Snares; Food and Water Procurement; Preservation and Purifying; Improvised Equipment and Emergency First Aid of All Types.  (See below for individual protocols.)  
* Evasion- Rescue Sciences, Communication Protocols, Camouflage Techniques in All Types of Terrain, Navigation, Route Selections.  (See below for individual protocols.)  
* Resistance-  Classified.  Please refer to Titan’s Archive.   
* Escape- Classified. Please refer to Titan’s Archive.”_

“Paladin Danse?” EV asked.  
                He jumped, “Yes?”  
                Her lens blinked, “Please hand Pilot Lastimosa tool number 3.”  
                Liera had crawled out from the railgun. Her visor was open, and her smudged face shivered with impatience.  
                Danse hastily did as he was asked.  
_“I knew she’d ask for this again.”_  
                Holding the lip of the service chamber with her right hand, Liera extended her left.  Her boots slipped from the exterior of the railgun, and she adjusted herself.  Danse had been too engrossed in his reading to realize how badly her hands shook.  
                He felt bad for her.  She was a sole survivor of a different kind of Vault, one she’d formed in her own mind.  
                They exchanged tools.  
“Thanks.” She mumbled through a screen of drips coming from the edge of her visor.  
“Sure.” He looked at EV’s hand that shielded him like an umbrella, “Are you positive there isn’t anything else I can do to help?”  
“Yep.” Liera hunkered down in the railgun.  
“Alright.” Danse sighed at the thickening rain, “Can you put this in the cockpit?  I don’t want it to get wet.” He shut the manual and offered it to EV.  
“Affirmative.”  
                The cockpit opened.  EV pinched the book and ate it with a pair of closing doors.  
                A metal latch clicked behind him.  
“OW! GODDAMN IT!”  
“Pilot, you have engaged the safety on the railgun.”  
“Why the fuck is there a safety on this thing?!”  
“I asked a similar question when Captain Lastimosa built it.  I was told I would not understand.  He was correct.” EV lowered her hand to Danse, “Pilot Lastimosa requires your assistance.”  
                He eyed her palm, “You want me to climb up on that thing?”  
“Yes. Quickly.”  
                Danse frowned, “Coming…”

…

 

                Liera’s prosthetic was jammed between the plate that slid and another that was soldered to the interior.  Her boots pushed on the edge of the safety’s track, and she tugged on her arm.  
                Danse bent over the mouth of the service chamber, slipping underneath Liera’s straining tether.  
_“Stop staring at it.”  
                _ She sighed, “Just help me pull it out.”  
“That doesn’t seem like a good idea.”  
“I don’t see your degree in robotics hanging on the wall.”  Liera used her free hand to point at a part labeled, “Lastimosa’s Armory.”  
_“Dense. Saul Johnfield Dense.  That’s your new name.”_  
                He gripped her metal bicep, and started to pull, “Your flippancy is unnecessary.”   
“That hurts-“  
“Sorry.” His stomach deflated against the pipe it was curved around, “Can’t get a good-“  
“New plan.” Liera nodded to a yellow lever behind her, “Disengage the safety.”  
“Why didn’t we _start_ with that?”  
“50-50 chance the magnet rips my arm off.”  
_“Wouldn’t be the worst thing that’s happened today.”  
_ “Right…” Danse stretched for the lever. His collar bones peeked out above his snagged uniform. He couldn’t reach it.  
“You’re gonna have to come inside…” Liera offered a hand, and a strong grip accepted it.  
                She pulled him. Danse pushed against the inside wall.  He slipped through.  
                Their chests collided in miscalculation.  Her eyes darted, scanning for anything but his face.  
“Arm, cramping-“  
                He lifted himself.  She felt his wrists brushing against her ears.  Her face burned, “Yellow lever.”  
“On it.” Danse leaned over, and his holotags tickled her nose.  
“Pfffft-“ She spat them away before a sneeze broke through her plugged sinuses.  
“Bless you.”  
“Seriously? You’re polite even inside a Titan gun?”  
“I never thought I’d meet someone who hates people being nice as much as you do.” He pulled the lever, and the safety latch shot to the end of the chamber.  
                Luckily, her arm didn’t go with it.  
_“Much better.”_  
                She rubbed her elbow, dipping her finger in a new, shallow dent.  
“Does it still work?”  
“Yes, it ‘still works.’” She pushed him away, “Now let me fix my railgun.”  
“Keep it up _._ ” He spat, climbing out, “That attitude is going to catch up with you.”  
                EV’s fingers roguishly pinched the fabric behind his neck, dodging the tether with care.  
                Liera waved at him, “See ya.”  
                She found his look of utter fear humorous as he was lifted from the chamber.

…

                The holographic diagram’s last red line turned green behind Liera’s visor.  She coughed, ignoring the cloud her breath frosted across it.  
 “Railgun: ONLINE.” EV announced.  
                She breathed the air within the belly of the gun.  It smelled of Boreum alloy, the metal that built her home from the ground up.  It reminded her of the Titan Bay, a place where she and her family had spent countless hours working. _  
_                 She swiped at the metal shavings that blocked her peripherals and climbed the metal piping like a ladder.  EV shut the panel, and pulled a latch on the side of the railgun.  A barrel rolled into place.  
_“Locked and loaded.”_  
                Liera hit the ground next to Danse, who collected her tools.  She watched Cooper do it multiple times while she and Tai repaired various Titans onboard the flagship, and just like Jack, Danse put the tools in all the wrong slots.  She pushed the memories of home to the back of her mind where they belonged, and walked to the cockpit.  The doors opened, and the setting sun set the metal instruments ablaze.  
                Haylen’s blood stained the tan chair underneath the manual.  Liera tucked it under her arm.  
_“Should’ve opted for red.”_  
                A fabric handle stuck out behind the headrest.  She put her foot on the seat, and grabbed it.  With some effort, it became dislodged, and the military duffle she stowed before her deployment plopped in the chair. The door of the tool compartment opened, and the toolbox clanked against the other side of the wall.  Liera’s head poked around the corner.  
“Take this with you.” She gave Danse the manual.  
                His chin lifted, and a wry smile spread across his face, “Are you sure?”  
“Just don’t lose it.” Liera slung the bag over her shoulder.  
“I won’t.”  
                EV closed the cockpit as she hopped out, and her boots splashed in a shallow puddle.  
_“Of course the rain stops as soon as I’m done.”_  
“What have you got, there?” Danse crossed his arms.  
“Clothes. Personal articles.  Spare set of gear, jump kit, data knife, grapple, guns-“  
“Everything you’re not supposed to have.”  
                Liera cut in front of him, screwing the panel shut, “Do you know how many years of my life I dedicated to earn a Pilot Cert?” She adjusted the strap on her shoulder, “Four.  And the training I went through to get there...You wouldn't even  _believe._ "  
“You’re still a Pilot.  No one can ever change that.  Your ban is temporary, it’s for your own safety...”  
                She unslung her bag and handed it to him, “Fine, take it.  Whatever.”  
“Thank you for understanding.”  
“What are my orders, Pilot Lastimosa?” EV asked.  
**“Pilot Lastimosa says it’s too nice of a day to be inside.”  
** “Keep helping out…” Liera tucked the screwdrivers in her pocket, “You know where to find me.”  
_“I’ll never take being outside for granted again.”  
_                 EV secured the railgun on her back, “Understood.”  
                The airport shuddered when she left.  Small fires hid under piles of rubble, smoldering from where her rockets tore the previous structures asunder.  Their embers were black in the new rays of sunlight until they reignited under the _Prydwen..._ UnderHer shadow of steel _,_ a spell cast upon the Commonwealth.  
_“It’s no MacAllan…but it’s all we’ve got.”_  
                She could feel Maxson’s gaze from the Command Deck, watching her every move and evaluating her actions.  Snapping pages jerked her attention.  
                Danse was reading the manual, patiently waiting for her in the Vertibird.  
_“That and a really, really curious Paladin.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _The picture is from Battlefield 1._


	16. Pilot Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Throw me to the wolves, and I will return leading the pack."_  
>  -Seneca

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ** _Archive Quick Reference Guide_**  
>   
>  **Sidewinder:** The Sidewinder is a rapid-fire micro-missile launcher. It is an anti-Titan weapon, but lacks precision due to its large spread. The micro-missiles it fires do not yield a large area effect on detonation, due to their shaped-charge design.

* * *

* * *

 

                anse plopped the duffle bag on the table.  Liera rolled her eyes at the sound of the zipper.  The teeth pulled apart, stripping away the last barrier between her and independence.  She sat on her bed and sparked a cigarette.  
                The room was small, but it reminded her of her old Quarters- one bed on each side of the entrance, with a living space in the middle and a kitchen in the back. Random decorations and collected memorabilia clung to the walls.  A poster that read, “Days Since a Settlement Needed Help Wiping Their Own Ass: 0,” hung near the bathroom that was on Danse’s side.  The shower was on hers. Two desks faced away from each other, with chairs and terminals to match.  A stack of boxes labeled, “Cutler,” caught her attention.  
_“Who is Cutler?”  
_                 Danse pulled out her spare jump kit, “It’s a lot heavier than it looks.  Now I see why you needed a new pair of knees.”  
“Tell me about it.” Smoke drifted toward the ventilation fan twirling behind her.  
                He put it down, and continued fishing through the bag.  
“Careful.” She warned, “All sorts of explosive ordinance in there.”  
“In this small thing?”  His brow creased as he latched on to something.  
                She took a puff, “We’re all about big surprises in small packages on the Frontier.”  
                Danse pulled out a gun with a strapped pair of black cups caught on its grip, “I noticed…”  
“You talking about the Sidewinder or the bra?”  
                His cheeks reddened, “The gun.”  
“And here I thought you were giving me a compliment.”  She tapped her cigarette on an ashtray.  
“That would hardly be appropriate, soldier…” Danse wiggled the gun, letting the bra drop into the bag.  
                The Sidewinder went in his growing pile of confiscated items.  
_“Wonder how fast I could gear up and get out.”  
_                 She drowned the thought faster than it came up for air.  
_“And go where?”  
_                 Danse held a wooden box.  She inhaled sharply, and the edges of her breath cut her insides.  
“Don’t open that.”  
                He put it behind him, holding up a hand, “Hold it right there.”  
                She ignored him, and reached for it.  
“You’re on suicide watch.” He took a step back, “I have to check for-“  
“Give it to me.”  
                Danse jabbed a finger at the floor, “Stand down, Initiate.”  
                Her eyes flickered to a pistol at the edge of the table.  
_“Don’t even think about it. Are you crazy?”  
                _ He was in disbelief, switching from her to the gun, “Did you just think about shooting me?”  
“No.  Give me the box.”  
                A vein bulged under his neck. _  
_ “Look, can I…Can I just have it? Please?”  
“After I check it.”  
                Her arm fell, and she pinched the cigarette.  The tip glowed bright at her pull, “Fine.”

…

                His chest hurt.  It wasn’t a physical pain, but a form of implied betrayal that tore into him after she gave the slightest glance to the pistol.  
_“How could she even-”  
_                 Danse read the carved words on the box, “We Remember.”  
_“We Remember…”  
_                 He heard her say that when she addressed her superiors at the satellite array.  He built the courage to lift the lid, and curiosity replaced his injured feelings.  A leaning stack of photographs held a keycard on top.  The holographic letters “MCSJMAC” shifted in color above a microchip and her picture.  A brief description filled the right side:

Name: Lastimosa, Liera  
Room: 3706  
Wing: Officer’s Quarters, 3rd Level  
Joint Occupants:  Lastimosa, Tai; Cooper, Jack; “Dusty,” Feline  
Restrictions: None  
Curfew: None  
Please return to Quartermaster’s Office if found.  
_  
_                 A chain paced in front of him, a pendulum of dogtags and a decorated locket.  
“I appreciate the gesture, but…I need you to take them.” The cigarette wiggled between Liera’s lips.  
                Danse gripped them.  Her fist was reluctant to let go.  
“Are you sure?”  
                Her fingers unlatched, “They’re just a reminder of…” Fresh tears cut through the grime clinging to her cheeks, “I’m sorry.” She turned on her heel, “I need a minute.”  
                The bathroom door shut behind her.  
                Danse sighed, and lowered her tags in the box.  
_“I should put this some place safe…”  
                _ He scanned the room, locking on the floor-safe next to his desk.  
                He had his own memories in there, and he remembered how hard it was to make them.  
_“Don’t take it personal.  You acted the same way.”  
                _ Danse stowed the rest of her confiscated belongings in the chest at the end of his bed, careful not to blow himself up.

…

                The toilet flushed.  Strings of bile hung from Liera’s lips.  Her cramping stomach threatened another heave.  Her cheeks puffed and deflated like a dying fish trying to fill its gills.  The remnants of her sanity leaked through her newfound fury- parts of her she knew she would never get back.  
                She sat and wiped her mouth with her wrist. Her eyes sagged at a row of tallies lining the wall.  
_“Days, maybe?”  
_                 She frowned.  
_“Guess I wasn’t the first prisoner you took, huh?”  
                _ Her head tilted to the ceiling.  
_“Fuck you, Prydwen.”  
                _ A muffled conversation between EV and Danse came from the other side of the door.  
_“She needs you.  All of them do.  You can’t break down now.”  
_                 She used a railing to pull herself up, lurching to the sink to rinse her mouth.  
                Liera cupped the running water and splashed her face.  She rubbed the aftermath of the day from her skin.  Her muscles strained to raise her neck, and a mirror shifted.  
                A pair of hunched shoulders and an unfamiliar face stared back at her.  It had dark circles that no amount of sleep would ever purge; red splotches that no amount of humor could brighten; and bloodshot eyes from where glee had fled.  
_“You’re a mess.”_  
                Liera turned away in disgust.  
_“This is your life now.  Get used to it.”  
_                 She pulled the door handle, and left the bathroom.  
                Danse exited the shower’s changing stall, wearing a sleeveless shirt and sweatpants.  He yawned, and tossed his worn clothes in a hamper, “Almost curfew.  Box is in the safe.  EV has the code.” He climbed under his blanket, plopping the manual in his lap, “Anything questionable is locked up.”  He nodded to a green chest with a white star on top of it, “Don’t get any ideas.” _  
_ She grunted, yanking the flaps of the duffle wider.  She found her own lounge clothes, and paused on her way to the shower, “I wasn’t going to shoot you.”  
                He looked skeptical at first, but his pursed lips creased into a smile, “I know.”  
                Liera swallowed, and stepped inside.

…

                A tiny lamp dangled over Danse’s shoulder, clipped to the frame of his bed.  He flipped a page, quietly reading while Liera tossed and turned across the room.  
_“Prisoner of War Code of Conduct:-_ ”  
                A mumble escaped her, and he lifted his chin to see if she was alright.  She hugged her helmet close to her chest, taking the place of a stuffed animal an upset child might sleep with.  Her blanket fell to the floor, and her knees met her elbows in a harsh curl.  
                Danse placed the book down, and made his way to her side.  He draped the comforter over her, and the disgruntled crevices on her face faded.  She sunk a little deeper in her pillow.  
_“You’ve earned a good night’s rest.”  
_                 He climbed back in to bed, and continued reading:  
  
_1\. I am a part of the Frontier Militia, fighting in the forces which guard the Frontier, our allies, and our way of life. I am prepared to give my life in their defense.  
  
__2\. I will never surrender of my own free will. If in command, I will never surrender the members of my command while they still have the means to resist.  
  
__3\. If I am captured, I will continue to resist by all means available. I will make every effort to escape and to aid others to escape. I will accept neither parole nor special favors from the enemy.  
  
__4\. If I become a prisoner of war, I will keep faith with my fellow prisoners. I will give no information nor take part in any action which might be harmful to my comrades. If I am senior I will take command. If not, I will obey the lawful orders of those appointed over me and will back them up in every way.  
  
__5\. When questioned, should I become a prisoner of war, I am required to give name, rank, service number, and date of birth. I will evade answering further questions to the utmost of my ability. I will make no oral or written statements disloyal to the Frontier and its allies or harmful to their cause.  
  
__6\. I will never forget that I am an asset to the Frontier, and that taking my own life to avoid enemy capture must be the last resort, as I am a Militant; fighting for freedom, responsible for my actions, and dedicated to the principles which make the Frontier free. I will trust in my God and in Frontier Command.  
  
_

                He found himself choking up as he began to read a small passage following the code.  It described the events that inspired a prayer, written to honor those who died for the “Cause.”  
_“That’s enough for today.”  
_                 Danse shut the book before reading further, and clicked the light off. _  
_ He imagined what kind of planets a Pilot could get stranded on, and what kind of faith they hold close to them.  He read about military personnel carrying a bible with them in times of war.  
_“Perhaps this is the closest thing to a bible they have.”  
 _                Danse turned in his bed, watching Liera sleep.  
                He reeled from the last week.  The shock crept up on him.  He remembered the first time he saw EV barrel around the corner at the police station, when Liera sprinted across the side of a building to jump in her cockpit.  
_“Here we are, stuck in the middle of an intergalactic battle for planets.”  
                _ The Brotherhood had their own problems to deal with.  At first, Danse resented the Militia for bringing more.  He had failed to realize that like his team, Liera and EV were just following orders.  
                They were tasked with enforcing a principle the Militia swore to protect, one that the Brotherhood denied them in return:  
                Freedom.

…

                A morning reveille sounded over a loudspeaker that Liera didn’t know existed.  The jangle of trumpets made her face crinkle.  
_“Just a few more minutes…”_  
                A knock came from the front door.  Heavy footsteps pounded the floor near her.  A click followed an electronic beep, and light flooded her eyelids.  
“I see you got about as much sleep as I did.” Danse kept his voice low.  
                Hinges creaked.  Two pairs of footsteps were in the room.  
“Yeah.  Woke up in the middle of the night, and that was that.” Rhys sighed, “She still asleep?”  
“Not anymore.” Liera mumbled, turning her head away.  
“Hey, you heard First Call.” Rhys shook her shoulder, “Time to get up, lazy bones.”  
                She shrugged him off.  
                Cold air hit her skin. Her fuzzy cocoon was dismantled.  She retracted into a shivering ball, “You mother-“  
“Up and at ‘em!”  
                She sat up and crossed her legs, rubbing the tired from her eyes.  
“Oh, damn.  They weren’t kidding.” Rhys yawned.  
“What…?”  
“Your uh… _enhancements…_ ”  
                A damp towel draped over Danse’s shoulders.  He used one end to dry his hair, “Modified super-soldier, laying waste to coffee mugs all across the Commonwealth.”  
_“It’s too early for this shit.”_  
“Did I miss something?” Rhys looked at him.  
“No.”  
                Danse’s sleeves were tied around his waist, and a glowing pair of holotags rested upon his chest.  He handed Liera the duffle with her clothes in it, and she started digging for socks.  
“What brings you in this morning?” He asked Rhys.  
“Just orders from Captain Kells.”  
“What does he want?”  
“With Nora taking longer in the field than expected, he needs someone to take over today’s drill.” Rhys cleared his throat.  
                Danse hung the towel over the curtain rod, “Let me guess. He wants me to do it?”  
“He does.  He said you…”  
“I…?”  
“…Didn’t have anything else to do, since you’ve been grounded.”  
                Liera stepped into a clean jumpsuit, “Grounded?”  
“Paladin Danse is your Sponsor.  If you’re not cleared for active duty, neither is he.”  
                She looked over her shoulder at Danse, “You failed to mention that.”  
“Would you have magically passed your psych eval if I had?”  
“I could’ve lied better.”  
                He didn’t look happy with her response.  
“ _Also…_ I spoke with Cade about seeing Haylen.  He said he’d let us in this afternoon, provided that Lastimosa sit down with him after drill.”  
                Liera cringed, “Why?”  
“Lots of sharp things in Medical.  Probably doesn’t want you poking yourself with any when we see Haylen.”  
                She pulled a hygiene kit from her bag, “If I didn’t kill myself after a piece of Titan got stuck in my head, I definitely wouldn’t now.”  
                Liera left the bathroom door open, and wet her toothbrush.  
_“This is absurd.”  
                _ She leaned against the doorway to avoid the mirror.  They looked at her curiously.  
“A piece of Titan?” Rhys cocked his head.  
                She pointed to the slivers in her head, “Peas uf shrawpeienl.”  
“Huh?”  
                Liera spit in the sink, “Piece of shrapnel.”  
“I thought it had some sort of function?”  
“That came after.”  
                She took a comb from her pouch, and ran it through her hair.  
“I’m not even gonna ask.” Rhys rocked on his heels, “Hurry up, I’m hungry.”  
“Should I just leave this stuff in here?” She pointed at her kit.  
“You don’t have to ask.  It’s your bathroom, too.” Danse put on his boots.  
                Liera sat next to him and did the same, “Understood…”  
“I’ll come with you guys to the Mess Hall.” Rhys rolled his shoulder, “I need a break from tailing Brandis.”  
“Who’s he with now?” Danse secured a watch over his wrist.  
“Cade.  Poor guy has his hands full.”  
                Liera latched her helmet to her hip.  
“Good morning, Pilot.” EV greeted, the visor flickering at her speech.  
“Morning, EV.  Staying out of trouble?”  
“Aside from nearly stepping on a land vehicle, yes.”  
_“Clumsiest Titan in existence.”  
_                 She zipped her jumpsuit to her neck, “Ready.”  
“Not wearing the helmet today?” Danse smiled.  
“Figured they should get used to seeing my face.”  
_“I have a feeling I’ll be here for a while.”_  
“That’s rather…” Danse swiped the door, “ _Ambitious_ of you.” _  
_ “I don’t need anyone being more curious than they already are.”  
“Good luck with that.” Rhys cackled.  
                Danse held the door open, and shot him a look.  
“What?  Just being honest.”  
“You should remind everyone that she’s a member of my squad, and should be treated as such.”  
“Am I, though?”  The three of them continued down the hall, “I’m just an Initiate, after all.”  
“No, not officially.” Rhys mumbled, “But if Elder Maxson hasn’t thrown you overboard by now, I don’t think he’s going to.”  
                The verbal confirmation dislodged a gear in Liera’s brain.  Luckily, she had plenty to distract herself with.  The Mess Hall was lively as ever, although more tired faces branded her an outsider than they had mid-afternoon.  She took a place in line, listening to the gossip that spread like wildfire.  
“Heard someone talking about Ms. Black.  Said she’s headed for Diamond City.”  
“Alone? That’s suicide.”  
“You know what’s suicide? Traveling with her.  That’s why Maxson stopped giving her escorts.”  
“She has that Mr. Handy, at least.”  
“What’s his name? Codsworth?”  
“Yeah.  Between her and the Initiate, our new company sure has a thing for robot buddies.”  
“I wonder if the Titan calls the Initiate, ‘mum,’ like Codsworth.”  
“Don’t be stupid…It clearly calls her ‘mate.’  Have you heard her accent?”  
                Liera’s anxiety slithered up her neck.  
_“I’m getting really tired of this.”_  
                The man behind the bar placed a cup of yogurt and a grainy block on her tray.  
“I feel like I’m back in Basic.”  
“I don’t know whether to laugh or be insulted.”  Rhys picked a piece of fruit from a basket and tossed it to her, “You do have an accent, though. Your dad does too.”  
                Danse wrung him with a glare.  
“Er…sorry.” He cleared his throat.  
                Liera’s jaw clenched, and she pushed the pain in a folder of thoughts she worked tirelessly to compress.  
_“Keep it together.”_  
“Everyone on Harmony from the South Side sounds like this…”  
“South Side?  From Down Under?” Rhys smirked, “You’re Australian and you don’t even know it.”  
“Australi-what?”  
“Nothing.”  
“Don’t forget your water.” Danse handed her a can, “I know it doesn’t taste great, but it beats dehydration.”  
“Talk to me about ‘taste’ after you’ve drank recycled piss for a week…”  
                They sat at the table, and took the same seats of the previous day.  
“Uh…What?” Rhys grimaced.  
“Not every planet has running water.” Liera cracked the can open.  
                He gawked at her.  
“...Never mind.”  
“No, tell me.” Rhys took a bite of his food, “I want to know.”  
“M-COR led an expedition to the outer rim of the Freeport system.”  She ate a bit before continuing, “Each ship has a jump drive, right? But if you exhaust the reactor before it has a chance to recharge, you’re stuck drifting until it does.  Ours took a week to reach full power after 6 consecutive jumps.”  
“Jumps? What?”  
“Slip space?”  
“Nope.  None of that makes sense to me.”  
                Liera bit into her breakfast bar, “Going from one end of a planetary system to the other in a matter of seconds.”  
“Oh, more space Marine stuff.  Got it.” Rhys shoveled food in his face.  
“Any way, we were drifting, and there was no indication of viable water in the area.  Nothing bonds a fireteam faster than drinking each other’s-“  
“Come on, I’m trying to eat, here.” Rhys frowned, “And don’t get any ideas.  I don’t care how recycled it is, I’m not drinking your pee.”  
“Hard pass.”  
                Recon Squad Lynx placed their breakfast at their respective seats, chatting amongst each other. _  
_ “Just ask her…” A man whispered from the other end of the table.  
                The men in the squad nodded to Liera in unison.  One even winked at her, “Ad Victoriam, Sister.”  
                A nervous twitch tugged her cheek. _  
_ “Keep it in your pants, Wolfe.” Rhys snickered.  
“What? Can’t a guy show some Earthly hospitality?”  
“Yeah. Quietly.”  
                Wolfe took his snarky comment as an invitation, and sat across from Liera.  
                She pulled the spoon from her mouth, swallowing her yogurt.  Danse had daggers in his eyes, and they were pointed at Wolfe.  
_“What’s gotten in to you?”_  
                Wolfe nodded at her, “Can I see it? Your arm. The metal one.”  
                Rhys elbowed him in the chest.  
“Ow! What for?”  
“You’re being rude, Scribe Dickhead.”  
“Shouldn’t you be eating?” Danse squinted.  
“Sorry, sir.  Just curious is all.”  
                Liera pushed up her sleeve and plopped her arm on the table, “Here it is, in all its glory.”  
“Whoa.” Wolfe’s eyes widened, “It really _is_ your whole arm…”  
                He was getting too close, and she leaned into Danse.  He stiffened like a watchdog at the ready.  
“Can it feel anything?” Wolfe asked.  
“Mildly.”  
“Is it, like…Super strong?”  
“Probably stronger than yours.”  
                He froze.  
“Why…Why did you have to go there?” Essen pushed her bangs up with a facepalm, “You don’t know how competitive he is…”  
                His tattooed elbow met the table, “Challenge accepted.”  
“Wolfe. Enough.” Danse barked.  
“Ah, come on.  Let them work it out.” Rhys scrapped the bottom of his yogurt cup, “I’d pay to see her win.”  
“We taking bets?” Wolfe challenged.  
“20 caps says she beats you in an arm wrestle.”  
“Caps?” Liera asked Danse.  
“Commonwealth currency…I’d recommend not feeding in to him.” _  
_                 Liera took Wolfe’s hand, “Come, now.  Someone’s gotta’ put him in his place, and Rhys deserves a bonus.”  
“Big words, little lady.” Wolfe gave her a cocky grin.  
                Her eyes narrowed.  
_“You’re gonna’ wish you never said that.”_  
“On 3.” He started, “1…”  
_“How do I get myself into this shit?”  
_ “2…”  
_“Try not to put his hand through the table.”  
_ “3!”  
                Thud.  
                His hand wriggled underneath hers, and she kept it pinned to the table.  Wolfe pulled his arm, trying to release it.  
“Ahem.” Danse nudged her gently.  
                She let him go, and covered her arm.  
                Wolfe stood, rubbing his wrist, “Freak…”  
“I must’ve misheard you.”  Danse rested his hands on the table, “Would you mind repeating yourself?”  
“It was nothing, sir.”  
“We’ll see how much ‘nothing’ you have to say at the Yard.”  He nodded to the other half of the table, “Now get your ass over there with the rest of your team.”  
“And you owe me 20 caps.” Rhys winked at him.  
                Wolfe slinked back to his seat where the rest of his squad laughed at him.  
                Liera finished her water, “Sorry. Was I not supposed to do that?”  
“Not really, but I’m glad you did.” Danse smirked, “Shows you’ve still got some fight in you.”  
                The group gathered their dishes, and headed over to the pile.  
“It’s there. Just saving it for a special occasion…”  
_“Fucking Blisk.”  
_ “You’re angry. Good.” Rhys stacked his tray, “Hold on to that feeling.”  
                Her eyebrows tightened, “What’s that supposed to mean?”  
“Anger gets shit done.”  
                He wasn’t wrong.  She felt like her anger was the last spark of who she was, trying to ignite the gas of who she was becoming.  But she wasn’t sure if she would like that person or not.  Dealing with loss was hard enough, and she couldn’t handle not knowing if there was even a loss to deal with.  
                Flying blind, flying solo- these were the things the SRS taught their Pilots _not_ to do.  
                Liera observed the hooks on the wall, and wondered what pieces of advice the names above them would have to share if they were alive: _“Don’t end up like me.”_  
                She noticed a subtle slouch in Danse’s shoulders and the grieving that zeroed in on a particular pair of tags.  
_“Cutler.”_  
                She didn’t know who Cutler was, and it didn’t matter.  Danse lost people under his command.  Recently, too.  He told her that at the satellite array.  The difference was that she didn’t find him sulking around or throwing temper tantrums.  He was ready to take action against those who took his family from him. _  
_ Her jaw locked, and she followed Danse and Rhys towards the Flight Deck.

…

                A training yard had been established on the wide strip of tarmac.  Soldiers lined up, stretching at the beginning of the makeshift course.  Liera sat in her cockpit while Rhys and Danse walked the area.  
“Anything interesting to report?”  
“Negative.” EV answered, “I have been little but a Construction Bot during our stay.”  
“Sorry.” She rubbed the dashboard, “I’ll get my shit together and we’ll get back out there.”  
“Do not rush the grieving process.  It is unhealthy.” A smiley face popped up onscreen.  
_“You’re ridiculous...”_  
                A Vertibird landed next to the one she arrived on, and released Recon Squad Lynx.  
“Woo!” Wolfe jumped out, “It’s super nice outside!”  
“Relax.” Essen hopped next to him, “We’re not gonna’ be out here long with Danse running the drill.  Doubt we’ll have any breaks.”  
“Wait, Danse is-“ He paused, seeing Liera reclined in EV’s cockpit, “Holy shit…”  
                The squad gathered around her, and she sat up. _  
_ “Look at it…”  
“Stop playing with the robot.” Rhys called, “Trust me, it doesn’t end well.”  
                Her brow furrowed, and she pulled a lever.  The cockpit doors closed.  EV rose 20 feet above the ants that scurried.  
“WHAO!” Wolfe tripped into Essen’s arms, and she drug him away.           
                Liera kicked her feet up, “You’re the one piece of home they can’t take away from me.”  
“Nor should they try.”  
“You’re so eloquent.”  
“Lastimosa!” Danse called.  
_“Busted.”  
_ “Get down here and stop playing around!”  
                The doors opened, and EV’s hand served as a step.  Liera hopped to the ground once she was low enough.  
                Danse lowered his voice, making sure no one was watching him.  His stern demeanor softened, and he muffled a laugh, “Some of these people only signed up a week ago.  Try not to scare them off.”  
“Yes, sir.”  
“Thank you.”  He turned to the others, and his commanding voice returned, “Alright, soldiers!  Form up!”  
“You ready?” Rhys stood next to Liera.  
“We’re doing this, too?”  
“I’m helping run this thing.  You’ll be out there.  Why else would you be with us?” Rhys nodded to Danse, “Does he look like he needs a cheerleader?”  
                The men and women of the Brotherhood lined up, saluting Danse as he inspected them.  
“No, he doesn’t.”  
                Rhys punched her shoulder, “Makes you proud knowing he’s our CO, doesn’t it?”  
“A little bit.”  
                Liera took her helmet in her hands, flipping it over before her head dove into it.  
“Does that thing ever get hot?”  
“You serious?” She clipped it to her suit as they walked, “It’s like someone’s dumping napalm on my scalp sometimes.”  
“Thought as much.” He laughed, “Catch you later.”  
                Rhys took off in a jog.  He stopped at the lower half of the course, and held a hand up to Danse, “In position!”  
                Danse turned to the line, “First part of the course is a sprint.  Then,” He pointed, “You’re to climb over the rope ladder and descend the crates on the other side.  After that is a crawl, where you’ll be under a low-hanging net covered in barbed wire.”  He walked the other direction, “The next part will be a live fire test, where you’ll shoot the targets in your lane.  They’re airsoft guns, but still...” He stopped, “Try not to shoot each other.”  
                Danse rolled up his sleeve, checking the watch on his wrist, “After that is the final sprint, where you’ll meet here.  Par time is 10 minutes.  You’ll have to do better than that to continue.”  
**“Par time is 2 minutes.  You’ll have to do better than that to continue.”**  
                The words tickled her. Tai said the same string of words before her Gauntlet.  
“On my mark.” He held his hand in the air.  
**“Show me what you’ve got.”**  
“GO!”  
                Liera took off.  Her elbows bent at a 90-degree angle.  Her knees adjusted to their lack of thruster propulsion, and her feet fell in line.  Her hands relaxed.  Her strides were quick and short.  
_“Just another Gauntlet.”  
                _ She ran the Pilot’s Gauntlet before she had her prosthetics, and she had no shame running this one with them.  She led the pack, and a single man trailed her.  
                Wolfe.  
_“Have to put more distance between us.”_  
Liera lost herself in the adrenaline.  It applied synthetic feeling to her soul, kickstarting the engine that imploded inside her.  
                The climbing wall was closing in.  
“Appox. 12 feet.” EV announced, “Maximum jump with 1g gravity and prosthetic advantage: 4 feet.”  
_“Good enough for me.”  
 _ “Jump now to achieve maximum height.”  
                Her foot pushed off the ground, and the momentum carried her forward.  She wanted to close her eyes and take in the soaring feeling, but it was short lived.  The sharp bristles of the rope ladder impaled her hands. She scaled the wall with her limbs moving in a choreographed fashion.  
_“Climbing is slow.  Need to move faster.”  
                _ She kicked the wall and brought her knees to her chest.  Her hands joined, forming a triangle over her head.  Engaging her core, she propelled over the last three rows of squares, gripping the ledge with the tips of her fingers.  She swung a leg up, and pulled herself over with her elbow.  
                Liera twisted, and landed on a metal shipping container in a crouch.  It thundered under her weight, and shuddered as she ran to the edge.  She skipped over the second container and rolled across the third.  Her knees bent slightly to break her fall, and she wasted no time once her boots hit the ground.  
_“This.  This is what I needed.”  
                _ The footsteps of the Militia sounded with each step.  She could feel them march beneath her, empowering her to be bold.  Each of their pulses bobbed in her throat.  Their blood coursed through her veins.  
_“They could still be alive.”  
_                 The thought felt like a lie, but held warmth like the truth.  
“That’s it, Lastimosa!” Rhys ran along the sidelines, “Go, go, go!”  
                Liera hit the pavement as she dove underneath a net.  It was held by wooden posts, barely high enough to fit her helmet through.  She kept low as her alternating elbows dug into the cement, and the edges of her boots pushed her forward.  
                She’d been in a trench before, back in the Boneyard where Flyers started picking off the Militia for a meal.  She’d seen men get lifted and carried off to cliffs.  She’d been with Jack and his Rifleman team, watching Leviathans stomp around the perimeter.  
_“They think a Behemoth is bad?  They should see one of those.”_  
                Liera reached the end of her crawl.  She scuttled to her feet and unleashed another sprint. The distance between the net and the weapon stands was short.  
                She caught her breath and observed the pistol.  Her visor picked it apart.  
“9mm airsoft handgun.  Wind projection, E-NE. Adjust aim.” EV zoomed into the kill spots on the target.  
                Liera took aim.  The target was painted in her mind.  Blisks’s face twisted into the shape of a bullseye.  
                The trigger pulled, sending her misplaced aggression into his head.  Her chest lightened, and she wondered if she’d get in trouble for shooting it again.  
_“That felt way too good.”  
                _ She decided against it and returned the gun, and followed the arrow that bent around the corner.  Two metal sheets that had been planted in the ground formed a corridor, leading past the rest of the course.  It emptied into the initial stretch. _  
_ There was nothing but a long road to run, with Danse waiting at the end.  
_“No walls to climb, nets to crawl under, targets to shoot…Just a wide, open expanse and room to breathe.”_  
                Liera put herself on a battlefield somewhere in the Frontier.  She found comfort in the chaos, and familiarity in bounding through conflict.  
_“I’ve faced harder times than this at 2g."  
                _ She’d been born to Harmony, a planet that put her ancestors through hell to populate.  The higher gravity made their joints hurt, had everlasting effects on fertility, and made it a risk to jump for fear of breaking bones.  Even the rain held the potential to injure them.  
                But they didn’t abandon their post.  Over the 200 years of their existence, they evolved.  The children that were fortunate enough to survive birth had thicker bones and muscles.  They were born with reinforced blood vessels and a stronger heart.  They made jump kits to break their fall, and hardlight to shield them from any storm.  They earned their right to live there, long after the IMC decided it was too hard.  
                Liera exited the corridor, and the broken buildings reminded her that she was in a wasteland herself.  A wasteland that would never stop testing her and would always try to break her.  She reminded herself that she had roots here, too, through her mother.  
_“If she could adjust to a new planet, so can I.”  
_                 She peddled to a stop as she crossed the finish line, hacking at the ground.  She opened her visor and covered her mouth.  Sweat dripped from her nose.  The burning sensation she felt when she arrived snuck its way into her lungs.  
                Liera fell on her back, taking in a cool chest-full of air.  
“Record time of 2 minutes, not that I’m surprised.” Danse smirked.  
“I’d like to run this course with my jump kit.” She choked, “I want to see if I can clear it under 25 seconds.”  
                Danse chuckled, “Sure.”  
                She tore away from the clouds and rolled on her stomach, “Before I got these prosthetics, that was my record time for my Pilot’s Gauntlet.  I asked to run that again, too, but they wouldn’t let me.  Said it was unfair.”  
“Oh…you were being serious?”  
                She sighed, “Yes, Paladin Danse.”  
_“Paladin Dense.”  
_ “I think you’re the only person I’ve met that addresses me by title when they’re being sarcastic.”  
“Well, you don’t call me Pilot.”  
“You’re not my Sponsor.” He looked down at her, “On your feet.”  
“Yes, Paladin.”  
                He sighed.  
                Liera dusted the dirt from the back of her legs, “Think I can come back tomorrow?”  
“To drill?”  
“Yeah.” She stretched her arm, “The exercise…it helped.”  
                The formality in his shoulders fell, “If all goes well with Cade, we might not be here for much longer.  I’m not sure what Maxson has in store for Gladius, but I can almost promise a swift deployment.”  
“Even better.  M-COR doesn’t typically stay in one spot for too long.  I like it like that.”  
                He grunted, “Speak for yourself.  This is the most downtime I’ve had in years.”  
“Want me to throw my psych eval?”  
                Danse smirked, “You’re just full of witty comebacks today, aren’t you?” _  
_ Wolfe was in striking distance, and he skidded to a halt. He marched at her.  
“You cheated!”  
                Liera was taken aback, “How exactly did I cheat?”  
“Because you…you…!”  
“Beat you.”  
“Initiate…”  
“Apologies, Paladin.” She answered.  
_“Should make him look good in front of the others, at least.”  
_                 Danse checked his watch, “6 minutes.  That was a good run, Scribe Wolfe.”  
“Thank you, sir.” He wiped the sweat from his forehead.  
“Get in formation.  The rest will be here shortly.”  
“Yes, sir.” They answered in unison.  
                She walked next to Wolfe and they fell a few feet behind.  
“How?” He asked, “How do you move so fast?”  
“Prosthetics and an unfair advantage.” Liera admitted, “Pilots are conditioned for higher gravity planets.  1g is a cinch.”  
                He glared at her, “Well shit. You’re a real-life alien.”  
“Whatever you say, _Earthling_.”  
                They formed the head of the line.  
“That’s not funny.”  
                The other soldiers followed.  Essen clocked at 7 minutes, and the rest of them hit 8 or 9.  
                Rhys’s shouts came from along the sidelines, jogging next to the last recruit lagging behind, “Come on, soldier! Pick up the pace! You’d be dead by now!”  
“I knew he’d be good at this.” Danse stroked his light beard. _  
_                 The man crossed the line, and began throwing up.  
“10 minutes.” Rhys checked his watch, “You barely made it.”  
                He straightened himself, “I will be faster next time, _SIR_!”  
“You better be.” Rhys pointed to the ground, “Now drop down and give me 20!”  
                The man dropped to his arms, and proceeded to break into push-ups.  
“All of you!” Danse yelled at the rest of them, “The Brotherhood celebrates its wins and suffers its losses, together.” He paced down the line, “Let this be a lesson to never leave each other behind.” _  
_                 Liera fell to the ground, and her arms pushed repeatedly.  
_“Losing an arm wasn’t so bad, after all.”  
                _ A bug crawled next to her nose.  It was deformed with eyes on its back, and wings that looked like they shouldn’t have worked.  
_“Gross.”  
_                 A red Vertibird waned over the airport and circled back to the training yard.  
“Fall IN!” Rhys shouted once the last recruit was finished.  
                Liera’s stumbled into place, and she opened her visor. _  
_                 The sun beat down on them as they stood in formation.  The landing Vertibird provided a steady breeze that whisked the sweat from her forehead.  
_“That feels nice.”  
_ “Ten-HUT!” Danse shouted.  
_“Heels one foot apart, arm angled behind back, fist facing outwards, hand on forehead.”  
_                 The Vertibird landed, and the red door slid open.  Elder Maxson climbed out, wearing a black jumpsuit.  He nodded to Danse and Rhys on approach, “Ad Victoriam, gentlemen.”  
“Elder Maxson, _SIR_!” They answered.  
“At Ease!” Maxson shouted over the winding-down propellers.  
                He paced down the line, stopping at Liera, “Well met, Initiate.” He eyed her carefully, “A peculiar salute.”  
                She felt the crowd stare at her, but remained stone-faced, “I am unfamiliar with the Brotherhood salute, Elder Maxson.”  
“Should you join our ranks, you will learn in time.”  Maxson pointed his chin at the training course, “I'm surprised to find you down here in light of everything that's happened."  
“A moment of weakness, sir.  Won’t happen again.”  
_“Maxson will know that I am tempered. Strong. Not broken. Not weak.”  
                _ She swallowed. _  
_ "Your tenacity is inspiring.  We need more like you.”  Maxson folded his hands behind his back, “Initiate Lastimosa’s bravery in the face of the unknown exemplifies what it means to be part of the Brotherhood.”  
                With Maxson out of her way, she found Danse standing attention.  His eyes strained from the sun, but he was gleaming.  
“Let this training remind you that every operation we undertake is a team effort. We're called the Brotherhood of Steel for a reason.” Maxson continued, “Our ideals are what define us, Brothers and Sisters. If we can hold onto that, then we will always be victorious.”  He returned to Danse’s side, “So, are all of you ready to lay waste to Ghouls, Synths, and Mutant scum alike?”  
“Yes, _SIR!”_ The crowd answered. _  
_ “Good, good…Paladin Danse, a word.  Knight Rhys, please take over the drill.”  
“Yes, sir!” Rhys saluted, “Alright, soldiers! Put your gloves on and find a sparring partner! It’s time for some CQC training.”  
                Maxson mouthed something to Danse, and walked toward EV.  Danse looked at Liera over his shoulder before following.  
Liera squinted, and shut her visor.  
_“_ Put ‘em up, Lastimosa.”  Wolfe stepped in front of her.  
“What’s your problem?”  She peered around him.  
                EV stopped what she was doing, and knelt to greet Danse and Maxson.  A microphone icon flickered onscreen.  
**“So, _this_ is a Titan.” **Maxson’s voice came through her helmet’s earpiece.  
“You’re my partner. Deal with it.” Wolfe’s fists raised to his eyes, “Don’t hold back, sweetheart.”  
_“I need you to fuck off so I can listen to this conversation.”_  
                She took a fighting stance, “Oh, I won’t.”  
                His eyes darted to her glistening hand, “On second thought-“  
“Lastimosa! Helmet off!” Rhys ordered.  
**“State your business here, machine.”  
**                 Liera frowned.  
“Open fists, no kicks above the waist.  First one to the ground loses.” Rhys shouted, “Fight like your life depends on it, because it does.” He looked at his watch, “Begin!”  
                Liera unlatched her helmet, and let it roll to the ground.  
                Wolfe clipped the side of her mouth, busting her lip, “Ooo, sorry about that.”  
_“Fucking cheap shot.”_  
                Liera stumbled, and spit blood on the ground, raising her forearms to block another blow, “No closed fists, asshole!”  
“Quit your whining and square up.  You’re making this too easy.”  Wolfe took another swing.  
                She ducked low.  Her left hook caught his jaw, and she felt his teeth chatter under her knuckles.  He balanced himself, touching his mouth.  
_“How does that feel?”_  
                Her arm snapped forward, and Wolfe barred her.  He had her in a headlock.  His mouth brushed against her ear, “You think you’re some kinda hot shot because Maxson said so?” His grip tightened.  He was crushing her throat.  
                Wolfe jerked her to the side, and her legs quickly adjusted.  Her hands slipped from his arm, and it closed tighter, “You’re not one of us and you never will be.”  
“They’re dead! You’re not! Fight like it!”  
                Liera wasn’t sure who Rhys was shouting at, and she didn’t care.  
                A pilot light clicked in her stomach, igniting the reserves of gas that fueled her: Rage, a chemical compound created by combining the elements "murder" and "loneliness."  
                Her prosthetics engaged.  She pulled the strength from them to flip Wolfe over her shoulder, and on to his back.  Her legs swung around him, and she knelt on his chest.   
                Her metal fist raised.  Her jaw trembled and her teeth chattered like a drumroll leading a march.  
“Stop!” Wolfe squeezed his eyes shut.  
                She impaled the cement, leaving an imprint next to his head.  
                Liera’s chest heaved.  She wanted to kill him.  She wanted to snuff the life out of him and watch him regret taunting her while he slipped away.  
**“That’s the thing about apex predators.  They’re always better.”**  
                She was tired of being provoked and told what she could and couldn’t achieve.  She was exhausted from constantly being measured and questioned.  
                Rhys pulled her off and shoved her away, “Walk it off.”  
                Liera snatched her helmet.  Maxson’s Vertibird was already in the air and leaving.  
_“Get to EV.”  
                _ She winced when she tried to swallow.  
_“Got me good…”_  
“I leave you alone for 5 minutes and-“  
                Liera stormed past Danse.  
“Stop.”  
                She halted.  EV was waiting for her.  
_“Keep going…or ignore him.”  
                _ She sighed, and flipped her helmet over.  
                Danse turned her around before she could put it on.  He looked at her lip, and bit the inside of his cheek.  
“You should see the other guy.” She croaked.  
                His grip tightened, “Was it Wolfe?”  
“Danse…” She lowered her head into her helmet, “I handled it.”  
“A man should never lay his hands on a-“  
“Save it.” She swiped her mouth and wiped the blood on her pants, “Those rules don’t apply out here and you know it.”  
“That doesn’t make it right.”  
                He was upset, and she kind of liked it.  She wasn’t too fond of the pitiful look he gave her, though.  
“Come on…” He sighed, “Let’s get you to medical before it gets infected.  Rhys can finish up, he’s qualified.”  
“Alright.” She clicked her visor, hiding her wounded pride.  
                A message wrote itself across her screen, “Archiving conversation transcript…”  
_“Maybe EV_ can _read my mind.”  
                _ She looked behind her and caught Wolfe staring.  
_“I hope not.  There’s not enough room for a second person in here.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to have this chapter posted in time for Memorial Day, as the PoW Code of Conduct is a modified version of the actual rules applied to the United States military.
> 
> This day is special to us in the US, as we commemorate those who have lost their lives in service to our country, as well as those still serving today.
> 
> Thank you for your sacrifices and protecting our home.
> 
> \---
> 
> Toothbrush garble inspired by [tafferling](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6304081/chapters/14998354).  
> It's a reference to Kyle Crane from her Dying Light fic, _"Latchkey Hero."_


	17. Call to Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"I will remember and recover, not forgive and forget."_  
>  -Cecilia Cruz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ** _Archive Quick Reference Guide_**  
>   
>  **Robert "Barker" Taube:** Barker is an ex-IMC officer who served with MacAllan, but quit after the mutiny. He fled to Angel City and became an alcoholic.  
>  Despite this, Barker was crucial when aiding the Militia up to the events of Demeter. His loyalties now lie mostly with a bottle of moonshine.  
> Although he believes in the Militia's cause, he and his independent Angel City Elites now seek answers to other mysteries within the Frontier.

* * *

* * *

                 bird flew through the Flight Deck, carrying a familiar, mutated song on its beak.  Liera listened and folded her arms along the railing, resting her chin above them.  The wind whisked her hair wildly like angry black fingers, slicing the aged canvas below: A macabre painting of despairing brushstrokes dipped in rustic colors, crafted by an artist named Nuclear Bomb.  
                It smelled of a rotting corpse left to die, with failing hands working around the clock to revive it.  Sputtering heart palpitations echoed on the breeze, whispering the Commonwealth’s dying breath.  
**“They’re dead. You’re not.”** _  
_ Four words repeated, relentlessly.  Her mind’s own distress beacon, begging the rest of her to respond.  She didn’t have much to say, having been reduced to a bundle of numbing thoughts and muscle spasms.  
                Liera’s jaw clenched and released. The swelling walls of her neck pushed together.  
“Are you okay?”  
                Danse was unsettled, maybe a little worried.  
_“No, I’m not okay.  I’m pissed and need a face to break.”_  
                She nodded.  
“Lancer Rico told me what happened.”  
“’Lancer?’”  
                The word was scratchy and crooked.  It didn’t quite leave her mouth right.  
“The pilot.”  His fists curled at his side. He homed in on her neck, “Wolfe will be punished for what he did.”  
“It was a training exercise.”  She coughed, “It happens.”  
“Sustaining an air choke for more than a few seconds isn’t a ‘training exercise.’” He growled, “And we don’t have time to argue.  Cade is waiting…”  
                The doctor who’d announce to the Brotherhood that her finger trigger was itching, and she’d fly off the handle at the drop of a hat.  She wasn’t prepared to admit defeat in the wake of her consuming emotions.  
“I’m not ready.”  
                She wasn’t ready for her secret to be out- that she wasn’t stable enough to wield her own weapon.  She wasn’t ready to be told that the killing spree she sought would be delayed; because right now, all Liera wanted to do was lay waste to any and all who threatened her.  
“And why would you say that?”  
                She’d almost killed a man with the synthetic arm that struck fear in her new rival.  She should’ve stopped when she escaped his hold, but she didn’t.  It was blind, unrestrained, and uncharacteristically violent.  
                It was bloodlust.  
“I thought about killing Wolfe…I _wanted_ to.”  
                Liera twisted her hand and saw the fresh dust sticking to her knuckles.  
_“You call yourself fit for duty?  That kind of impulse gets people killed.  You should know that better than anyone.”_  
“What stopped you?”  
                The question was one she wasn’t expecting, and one she hadn’t thought to ask herself.  
“What are you getting at?”  
“Answer me.  What stopped you from killing him?”  
                The question stung worse the second time he asked.  Liera caught a glimpse of the white letters on her sleeve.  Her Top Gun patch.  She thought about what Briggs said when she gave it to her.  
**“’You’ve earned your wings, Lastimosa.  Pilots that make Top Gun are the most dangerous on the battlefield.  They serve as an example of what separates _us_ from _them._ ”  
**_“‘Them.’ Murderers.”_  
“I’m a Pilot, and I don’t take lives without purpose.”  
“That’s right.”  He unfolded his arms, “And who do you serve?” _  
_ She swept over her chest to the Militia crest stitched over her heart.  
_“’Us.’  The protectors of freedom.”  
_ “The Frontier Militia.”  
“And what’s your title, soldier?”  
                Liera’s brow slanted, “Combat Intel Specialist, SRS division.”  
“The forces that stand when united, and ambush when divided.  Correct?”  
                The words ripped through her as if the blue prowler engraved on her helmet came to life and attacked her.  A memory of an old SRS recruitment flyer flickered through her mind, of a lone soldier standing with a rifle.  She kept it in the box with her keycard for when she needed a reminder to keep going, to never give up, to never surrender.  
“Yes, sir.” She stood a little taller, “And I will never forget that I am an asset to the Frontier, as I am a Militant, fighting for freedom, responsible for my actions, and-“  
“Dedicated to the principles which make the Frontier free.”  
                Her head jerked, and she found a confident stare watching her.  
“Hmph. We Remember.”  
                Danse shifted, almost nervous, “Ah…so, that’s where the saying comes from?”  
“Mhm…See you’ve been reading the Manual.”  
“I have.” He smiled.  
_“Curious one, aren’t you?”_  
“I think you missed your calling as a motivational speaker.”  
“Am I good at it?”  
                She rolled her eyes, “Yes, Paladin.”  
“There you go again…”  
                Liera pressed her back to the railing and leaned on her elbows, “You’d do well in the Militia, you know.”  
“I appreciate that.”  His grin widened, “You guys seem like a tough act to follow.”  
                A cough ruptured her neck, and was followed by another.  She rubbed her bruised throat to sooth it, swearing under her breath.  
_“How did a shitty place like this make a guy like you?”_  
“I’m sure Cade has something for that.” Danse nodded to the entrance of the Main Deck, “I’ll walk you down.” _  
_ “How chivalrous…”  
“I _am_ a Paladin.”  
“Cute.” _  
_                 Liera followed him, watching the black hairs on his head frizzle in the heat.  
                Under all that decorum and Brotherhood training, there was a person who’d lived through horrible events, and did whatever he could to prevent others from suffering the same fate.  He wore his scars proudly, reminding those around him that he’d overcome things that would have broken a weaker man.  
_“One day…This’ll all feel like another test, and I’ll be able to be more like him.”_

…

                Danse leaned in the hallway, avoiding eye contact with the saluting soldiers that passed by.  He rocked the base of his skull against the wall, and watched the AC unit overhead send two red strings flying as it kicked on.  
_“Wolfe was trained by Paladin Nolan…Surely he wasn’t trying to-“  
_ “Hello? Anyone home?” Rhys waved over his eyes.  
“What?” Danse looked down, “Sorry.  Do you have something for me?”  
“Nope.  Just finished up and figured I’d come see how ‘Crazy’ was doing.”  
“She’s not crazy…”  
“Hah.  You didn’t see her almost take Wolfe’s head off.” He rolled his shoulder, “He’s really shaken up.”  
_“Good.”_  
“If I saw what was happening, I would’ve interjected earlier.”  
“I know.  Your sense of duty is honorable, despite your… _distaste_ , for Lastimosa...”  
                Rhys put his hands in his pockets, “I was a real dick to her before, huh?”  
“Your words, not mine.”  
“Well, I think I’ll have plenty of time to make it up to her.” He yawned, “Can you imagine?”  
“Imagine what?”  
“Being out in the field, who _knows_ how far away from home…and hearing the _Prydwen_ went down with everyone you cared about?”  
                Putting himself in Liera’s boots was something Danse tried to avoid.  
“And then the rest of them just…just _left_ her here.”  
                Danse frowned, “I’m sure the only reason the Militia haven’t come knocking is because of the satellite situation.”  
“Oh, come on.  You’ve seen their tech.  You think they need satellites to send an evac?”  
“If they’re at war on another planet, what makes you think they have time to rescue one- sorry, _two_ field operatives?”  
                Rhys sighed at the floor, “I guess you’re right…still, none of this sits well with me.  I’m starting to get the feeling that the Institute is just a distraction…”  
“From?”  
“The real threat.  The IM-”  
                The examination room unlocked from the other side.  Danse pushed off the wall, and was immediately disheartened by Liera’s empty stare.  Her collar was pulled to her chin, even without her helmet on.  Her busted lip was treated, and dark blood crusted over the wound.  
                Cade was close behind her, “Afternoon.”  
“Good afternoon, Knight-Captain.”  
_“Come on, tell me already.”_  
“Initiate Lastimosa has been cleared for active duty.  Here is her paperwork.” Cade handed him a stuffed manila folder, “I have transcribed copies for Elder Maxson, and they should be showing up on his terminal now.  This is her prescription, which you are to have filled by Proctor Teagan as soon as possible.”  
                Liera’s eyebrows creased, and she looked away.  
                Danse took the folder and the note, reading it thoroughly:  
_“20mg of Fluoxetine, taken orally once per day for depression and anxiety.  Monitor patient for adverse side effects and heart complications.”  
                _ A signature underlined the description.  
“Affirmative.”  
                Cade turned to Liera, “Congratulations, Initiate.  May you serve the Brotherhood valiantly.”  
“Thanks…”  
“You can thank me by remembering that promise you made.” He adjusted his glasses.  
“A Pilot never forgets.”  
“Splendid.  Now, off you go.  I’m sure Maxson has something for you to blow up.” He paused before leaving them, “Careful not to increase my workload?”  
“Yes, Knight-Captain.” Liera sighed.  
“Thank you.”  
                The door shut behind him.  
“Some good news for a change!” Rhys draped an arm around her shoulder, giving her a hug, “You’re not bat shit crazy, after all.”  
                She shrugged him off, “You’re supposed to hate me, remember?”  
“I stopped hating you when you saved my best friend… _And_ when you didn’t shoot me.”  
“In all fairness, you did threaten to kill me...”  
“Oh, please. I wasn’t going to pull the plug.  Wouldn’t want to get smashed by EV.”  
“Uh-huh.  Like you weren’t thinking about Haylen.”  
“Yeah, because she was inside your Titan!”  
“Speaking of Haylen...” Danse interrupted, “You two should head over.  I’ll catch up after I drop this off,” He held up the prescription, “And take your belongings to the room.”  
“Sure…”  
“What? Don’t want to see her?”  Rhys was almost offended.  
“It’s not that…I just want my stuff.”  
“Not like you’re gonna run around the _Prydwen_ with it on anyway, right?”  
“Why wouldn’t I?”  
“Because we’re not rushing in to battle?”  
                Liera crossed her arms, “You’ll never see a Pilot in the Frontier that isn’t armed to the teeth.  I don’t see how the Commonwealth should be any different.”  
                The two men looked at each other.  
“Why?” Rhys was the one to ask.  
“’Plans never survive first contact.’  That was my dad’s answer when I asked him the same question.”  
                Liera seemed like she regretted the words, and repeating them punctured the strong façade that was second nature nowadays.  
                Rhys put a hand on her shoulder, “Let’s get going.  Paladin, we’ll meet you outside of Haylen’s room.”  
                Danse nodded, and began down the hall.  
_“I miss her.”  
_                 She was there, but not really.  She wasn’t the fiery, daunting Pilot he met at the police station.  This was Liera’s dark side, the one that waxed and waned between crippling depression and reckless endangerment. _  
_                 He’d watched the Commonwealth claim too many souls.  He wouldn’t let hers be one of them.  
_“I’ll do whatever I can to bring her back.”_

…

                Liera hesitated outside Haylen’s room after Danse and Rhys entered, and kept her eyes on her helmet.  It always comforted her, reminded her she wasn’t alone in her suffering.  
_“I’d do anything to be with you right now, EV…”  
_ “Hey, guys.”  
“Glad to see you in one piece.” Danse chuckled.  
“Where’s Liera?”  
                The longing in Haylen’s voice made her wince.  She was happy she was alive, but couldn’t help feeling responsible for the events that put her in intense care.  
“Nice to see you, too.” Rhys mumbled.  
“I said ‘Hey,’ you big baby.”  
                Liera sighed, and walked through the door.  
“I’m here.” She did her best to push a smile on her face.  
                Haylen looked a lot different without the cap and googles on her head.  She was smooth-skinned with red hair that ran to her chin, and the blue eyes that lit up her angular face held a natural glow.  
                Her form went rigid, and she watched Liera in a state of wonder. _  
_ “I have a few questions for you…”  
“Look, Haylen…I’m sorry about…”  Her eyes darted between the machine hooked up to her and the patchwork on her abdomen, “All of this.  You have every right to be upset with me.”  
“Upset?  More like enlightened.”  
“What, did you see the light or something?”  
“You could say that.”  Her face crawled with animation, “I-I woke up, in the cockpit.  Not like when I’ve seen it before, it was just- everything was lit up, and turned on, and-“ She was so excited she could barely get a coherent thought out, “It was just incredible.  _EV_ is incredible.”  
                Liera sat on the end of the bed, resting a hand on her leg, “Yeah, she is.”  
                Haylen gripped it and leaned in, “Teach me.  Please.”  
“Uh…About what?”  
“Everything.  I need to know more.  There’s so much to learn about your technology, your world, your-“  
“Whoa, there, nerd.” Rhys sat on the other side of the hospital bed, “You’re not even on your feet yet.”  
“But I will be soon! And then you won’t have the quarters all to yourself anymore.”  
“Damn.”  
“Soon?” Danse sat in a chair next to Liera.  
“Yes! In a day or two.” Haylen pushed herself against the steel headboard, “No one can explain it.  I had a chunk of metal in my gut, and I’m almost fully recovered.”  She shook her head, “The things I felt, the…I can’t explain it.”  
“It was the Pilot Stim.” Liera blurted, “I hit you with a milligram.”  
“That was just one milligram?”  
“Yeah…You’re not conditioned for more.  I didn’t want to overload your system.  Hell, I could’ve killed you with what I gave you.”  
“You didn’t tell me that.” Rhys growled.  
                Haylen continued her line of questioning, “What’s it made of?”  
                The faces in the room locked on Liera.  
                She rubbed her neck, “It’s, uh…Well, call it synthetic adrenaline.  I’m no doctor, I have no idea what’s in the stuff…All I can tell you is that it’s designed to provoke cellular reconstruction.  It’s also a nice kick in the ass if you need a speed boost…”  
“Speed boost?” Her face crinkled, “You use it recreationally?”  
“Only under dire circumstances.  It’s addictive.  Seen too many good Pilots grounded for substance abuse.”  
_“Like drinking too much…Goddamn Barker.”  
_ “If it’s addictive, how do you condition for it’s use?” _  
_ “They start you with one milligram a day.  And then two.  And then three.  All the way up to thirty.  The whole time, your commanding officer is watching you for signs of addictive behavior.”  She noted the devious smile on Haylen’s lips, “Don’t get any ideas.  I don’t have an infinite supply, you know.”  
“Good thing it doesn’t take much to get the job done.”  
“Haylen.” Liera snapped, “You’re hooked already.  That’s what it does to people, it-“ She reeled in her frustration, “No.”  
                Her eyes drifted to Danse, the man she learned to seek reassurance from at times like these.  The hard lines in his face softened, and it worked.  
“I have a pretty good book that lays everything out, but…you might have to pry it out of this one’s hands.” Liera nodded at him.  
                He smirked, “I’m good at sharing.”  
_“Hopefully not with everything.”  
_ “Maybe I can convince him to let me have a peak…”  Haylen hugged herself, and the excitement in her demeanor died.  
                Liera’s scolding snuffed the light from her.  
“My father always told my brother and I...’Failure is the start of innovation.  Fail often, learn always, never stop creating.’”  
                She wasn’t saddened by the memory.  It made her chest warm.  
“We used to spend our weekends in an area called the Titan Bay.  He used to play this really old music, back from his time and all that.  Jack and I got _so_ impatient with him because he’d be too busy humming along, not spending enough time teaching us. He’d just watch as we’d fumble around, breaking things…” Her eyes lifted to Haylen, “Maybe we can have a day like that?  EV’s hard to break, but she’s great at teaching people by watching them make an ass out of themselves.”  
                Danse let out a hearty laugh, “Like questioning a safety on a multi-weapon Railgun?”  
“You know, I’m starting to think giving you that manual was a bad idea.”  
_“Smart ass.”  
_ “I’d like that.” Haylen smiled, “Getting all greased up like when Danse helps Proctor Ingram with the Power Armor.”  
                Liera raised an eyebrow, “Oh?”  
“I help with the repairs…on occasion.”  
“’On occasion’ my ass.” Haylen giggled, “You’re down there with that blow torch every chance you get.”  
“Huh.  Never would have pegged him for a gearhead.” _  
_ “Seriously?” Rhys smirked, “Have you heard some of the stuff that comes out of his mouth when he’s firing away in Power Armor?”  
“No, but it explains a lot, regardless.” Liera winked at him.  
“Alright, alright.” Danse rolled his eyes and mouthed, _“Unbelievable.”_  
“Any who…Once you’re up and at ‘em, we’re good to go since this one finally got cleared for active duty.”  Rhys gave Liera a curt nod.  
                Haylen cocked her head, “You’re just now taking your psych eval?”  
“Second time around…”  
                The room went quiet.  
“Hey, she’s tough as nails.  Passed even after-“  
“Rhys.” Danse cut him off.  
Liera slouched, and her heart throbbed in her chest. _  
“One step forward, two steps back…”  
                _ A knock came from the door.  The handle bent, and it cracked open.  
                Knight Essen poked her head through the gap, “Hey, sorry to interrupt.  Something’s going on, and I have orders to get you guys personally.”  
“What is it?” Danse looked at her.  
“Don’t know.  Elder Maxson needs you and Lastimosa to meet him on the Observation Deck.  Rhys, you’re with me.”  
“I’m being split from my team?”  
“Hey, I don’t issue the orders, I just follow them.”  
“Ugh…” He turned to Haylen, “Get some rest and stay out of trouble, alright?”  
“Always.”  
“I’ll try to arrange another meeting soon.” Danse stood, and moved his chair back to the corner, “Until next time, Scribe Haylen.”  
“Ad Victoriam, Paladin.”  
                Liera scooted herself from the bed.  A hand caught her wrist.  Haylen’s spry expression faded into worry.  
“Keep them safe, and bring them home.”  
“We don’t even know what’s going on yet, Haylen…”  
                She peaked over Liera’s shoulder.  The door was closed, and they were alone.  
“The Brotherhood's message of hope for the future is idealistic and noble, but their methods leave a lot to be desired.  The… _leadership_ …seems especially misguided. Instead of diplomacy, Maxson wields violent confrontation to exert control.  He’s a lot like...From what you’ve told us about them-“  
“The IMC…”  
“Yes.  And I've been successfully avoiding the fighting by following the career path of a Field Scribe.  But that doesn’t mean I don’t care for my Brothers and Sisters who fight and die alongside me.”  Tears welled in her eyes, “I can’t…I _won’t_ see any more spilled blood over my own moral fiber.”  
                Liera shuddered at the thought, “What are you saying?”  
“Maxson is planning something.  I heard troops talking about an increased patrol on the shore facing Fort Strong.  With you getting cleared, the timing is impeccable.” She swallowed, “I originally signed up seeking protection and comradeship, but I'm worried that I've traded away a bit of my humanity in the process.”  
                Liera’s prosthetic hand unfurled.  
_“I know the feeling…”_  
“Danse and Rhys remind me what it means to be human.  So when I ask you to keep them safe, and bring them home…”  
“I understand.”  
                She wiped the tears away, “I'm starting to wonder if joining the Brotherhood of Steel was a good choice…”  
“You did what you had to do to survive in this place.” Liera cupped their embrace with her metal hand, “I will _not_ lose anyone else I care about.  You have my word.”  
“You don’t know how happy it makes me to hear that.”  
                Liera nodded, and stepped backwards.  She faced the door, and left the room.  
**“Watch their backs as fervently as you’d watch your own.”  
**                 The promise Cade asked of her.  
                Danse waited outside, trying to dodge the flow of bustling soldiers in the hall.  
“All set?”  
                She looked down to her helmet waiting patiently for her to get her act together.  
**“They’re-”** _  
“Missing.  Dead.  Fighting.  Either or, you’re still breathing.”  
_**“Fight like it!”**  
                Distress signal received.  Body responding.  
                Call to arms initiated.  
“Ready.”

…

  
                Waves rolled beneath the Prydwen.  Gunshots crackled through the air, far enough to warrant an illusion of safety.  A Vertibird dropped from the arm holding it.  Maxson waited for them at the tip of the Flight Deck, anchoring himself on the railing.  
“Squad Gladius reporting, sir.” Danse saluted.  
                Liera did her best to mimic him.  
                Maxson took a breath of the salty, ocean air.  He raised an eyebrow at her attempted Brotherhood salute, and stroked his beard. _  
_ “At Ease.”  
                His voice was taught with anger.  
                Liera relaxed, and rested her hands on her sides.  
“Now that you’ve been cleared for active duty, are you ready for your first assignment, Sister?” _  
_ “Yes, sir.”  
_“More than I have been in a long, long time.”_  
“What are my orders?”  
“Spoken like a true soldier.” He smirked, “This is where all the hardships you’ve suffered through finally begin to pay off.”  He beckoned them forward, “Let’s get right to it then, shall we?”  
                She waited for Danse to take the first step, and fell in line, positioning Maxson between them. He pointed to a peninsula, one that was graced with an old stone structure looming over the ocean.  Its form was hazy in the thick, humid air.  
“Take a look over there.  That's Fort Strong, and it's infested with Super Mutants.  Having those aberrations of nature close enough to smell is making me sick to my stomach.”  
                Danse jerked in Liera’s peripherals, and she turned her head just enough to see him. _  
_ “To make matters worse, we’ve confirmed your reports.”  Maxson looked at him, now, “They're sitting on top of a massive stockpile of Fat Man shells we could use in our campaign.  The Brotherhood cannot allow those abominations to have a nuclear arsenal at their fingertips.”  
                He left them standing side by side, and clasped his hands behind him, “If we leave Fort Strong unchecked, we have a potential security threat on our hands…I want you to lead our forces over there, wipe out everything that moves, and secure that stockpile.”  
“It’ll be a pleasure to exterminate that mutant _filth_.” Danse growled.  
                This was a side of him Liera hadn’t seen too often, something dark and terrorizing.  Danse still had his demons, and she guessed they were about to come out and play.  
                She gulped, “Pardon my ignorance, but…’Fat Man shells?’”  
“Mini-nukes.  The Fat Man Launcher is an essential part of the Brotherhood arsenal.” Maxson clarified, “It's a miniature nuclear payload in a man-portable format.  A squad of troops armed with them is virtually unstoppable.”  The mess of scars on his face shifted as he snarled, “If you ever have the pleasure of firing one, allow me to give you a word of advice: Don't fire it in close quarters, or there won't be enough of you to bury in a shoebox.  That enough to go on?”  
“Yes, sir...”  
                His focus caught on the wings of a soaring Vertibird, lost in thought, “Mutants…One of many reminders of man's folly when it comes to harnessing technology.  Whether it's using biochemistry to manipulate genes or trying to create life from a bunch of circuits, it's the wrong path for science.  As members of the Brotherhood, it's our sworn duty to exterminate these abominations in every form.”  
                Danse swallowed, and his eyes squinted.  
                Liera fought the urge to tell him everything was going to be alright.  That he had her and EV to protect him, even if he didn’t need protecting.  
“So, can I count on Gladius to get the job done?”  
“Absolutely.”  Danse’s gloves squealed at his curling knuckles.  
“Good.” Maxson nodded to the Flight Deck, “We have a Vertibird on standby, fully armed and ready to depart.  I suggest you become the same.”  
                He paused, and returned to the railing.  His fingerless, cotton gloves wrapped around it.  He was locked in a stoic stance, his coat bustling from the jet stream of deploying aircraft, “Initiate Lastimosa.”  
“Yes, Elder Maxson?”  
“I want you and your Titan to use everything at your disposal to carry our message to Fort Strong, and wipe those dirty Mutants from the face of the Earth.”  
                She blinked, surprised by his sudden acceptance of EV’s existence, “We’ll match their firepower, I can promise you that much.”  
“I expect that you will.” Maxson looked over his shoulder, “Dismissed.”  
                Danse began his march like a dog in a race, finally let out of its gate.  The _Prydwen_ shied away from his fervent footsteps, whimpering under his boots.  Liera had to quicken her pace to keep up with him, and she wasn’t sure what to say, or if there was anything _to_ say.  
_“First things first.  Uphold the mission.”  
_ “EV, make your way to Fort Strong and find a safe place to hunker down.  I’m riding in with Gladius.”  
                Danse’s chin turned, but he remained silent.  
“Affirmative, Pilot Lastimosa.  I will look forward to your arrival.”  
“Likewise, big girl.”  
                She inhaled the last taste of the salty air before following Danse up the ladder.  
_“Time to misplace some aggression.”_

…

                Liera all but kicked the door down after Danse swiped his holotags.  They split up- him at his locker, her at the drafting table that held a crate with her Hemlok poking through the mound of gear inside it.  
                The first thing she grabbed was her jump kit, a chunk of heavy, scratched metal with a harness dangling from the bottom.  She lowered it under her feet, pulled it up to her hips, and clipped it around her waist.  
                She was an anthill, and her nerves were tunnels full of scuttling flares that fired until she felt fully constructed.  
_“I am going to kill so many fucking Mutants.”  
_                 A stream of excitement trickled in her chest.  Her heart raced, and she found her shoulder pads.  She put them on, clipped the strap across her chest, and pulled a thin Kevlar vest over it.  It was like a hug from a long-lost friend, one she hadn’t embraced in what felt like years.  
“Is that bullet proof?”  
                Danse was strapping his own guards to his joints, watching her.  
“Yep.  Can’t cut it, either.”  
                Liera tugged her tactical vest on, dodging the cloaking device battery sewn into its back.  
“I’m going to need your help.”  
“With what?”  
“See that thing that looks like a big coil?”  She lifted her hair, and pointed to the cylinder sitting between her shoulder blades.  
“I do.”  
“I need you to line it up with the socket and push it.”  
“Into…Where?”  
                Liera turned her head slightly, “Implant.”  
“Right…”  
                She felt the device shift behind her, and a pair of warm fingers slipped under the vest.  She twitched as the coil’s prongs aligned with the holes imbedded in her, and Danse pushed.  
                Liera stumbled forward, and he tried again.  
“You have to stand still…”  
“I’m trying.” She growled.

…

 _“Zipping up a dress? No, why would she need help with something simple?”  
_                 Liera’s arm looped around her side, “Give me your hand.”  
                He blushed when she put it on her chest.  Danse felt the weak thump of her heart underneath the padded vests, and it quickened at his touch.  
“Try now.” Her voice was quiet.  
                He pushed on it, and pulled her towards him.  A loud click came from the depths of her spine, and the light on the canister glowed white.  
“There we go.” Liera quickly retreated, and proceeded to pull out gear that enveloped the leather pads on her suit.  It’s like they were markers, indicating where each piece of armor went.  
                Danse pulled his hood on, and proceeded to watch her gear herself up in armor that told stories through jagged lines and deep scars.  
_“She’s a soldier, all right.”_

…

                Liera slung a pocketed bandolier over her right shoulder, and crossed her chest.  
_“Pilot Lastimosa, back in action.”_  
                She lifted her right leg on the chair, and strapped a holster around her thigh.  She caught Danse watching, fumbling with the latch under his chin.  She smirked, pulling out a pair of M-COR branded knee guards that matched her shoulders.  After they locked into place, she secured a utility belt around her waist.  
                A gauntlet encased her right forearm.  In a practiced motion, she pulled a wire from underneath and plugged it in to a hidden battery pack.  Blue lights came from her wrist computer’s screen.  
_“Initializing…good.”  
                _ She pushed her Grapple gauntlet up on her left forearm, and eyed the tip carefully.  
_“Let’s see if you’ve been tampered with…”  
                _ Liera aimed at the table, and hit the launch trigger.  The tether shot out, and its polarizing fingers embraced it.  
                Danse jumped out of the way, “A warning would have been nice.”  
“That’s usually what people say at the other end of this thing…” She retracted it before wrapping her shemagh scarf around her neck, “Then all of a sudden, they can’t say anything at all.”  
                She looked over her shoulder, and tested the wall-hang arm.  It twitched behind her like a tail.  
_“Fully operational.”_  
                Liera slipped her hands into her gloves. The tech glove lit up as it clung to her prosthetic, and she snapped it in place.  
“EV, give me a calibration test.”  
                A blank screen projected from the small lens on the side of her helmet. The ringed lights under her fingertips moved it effortlessly, “System fully synched.”  
                She proceeded to stuff her pouches with various items.  
_“Medkits, clips, grenades-“  
_ “I feel like I should say something since you’re dropping in with us.” Danse fidgeted with his sleeve.  
                Liera paused, “Go on…”  
“We use small unit tactics on the battlefield.  If one person breaks away, we’re left open to flanking…I need you to promise me you won’t leave the rest of the team behind.”  
_“All about promises today.”_  
                She twirled her data knife in her hand before sliding it into its slot, “I’m not built for that.  You’re gonna’ get me killed.”  
“How?”  
“Pilot fireteams move as a unit, but never together.  We disperse like a pack of wolves, and circle in on any soul unfortunate enough to make contact.”  She stowed her Hemlok on the magnetic lock behind her, “You know I’ll watch your backs, but I’m not meant to be grounded.”  
“I can’t argue with the fact that you’re a mobile fighter.”  He waved a hand through the space between them, “Seeing you, _bounding_ through the air with EV by your side…” Danse smirked, “ _That’s_ going to make people nervous.”  
                Liera shoved a clip into the bottom of her Wingman pistol, “Do I make _you_ nervous?”  
                His eyes widened, and he fumbled his words, “No, not in that sense.”  
“What sense _do_ I make you nervous in, then?”  
                Liera grinned, and leaned into him.  She rested a palm on the table with a fist on her hip, “Well?”  
                A tinge of red crept across his face. _  
_ “Are you blushing?”

…

                Danse’s face burned.  His heart tripped, and he leaned farther away, “No.”  
“I think you are.”  
                The fresh cut in her lip stretched into a grin. _  
“She’s ruthless.”  
_                 The ashen, musty scent of her gear reminded him of burnt leaves.  
                He gulped, “You’re just-“  
_“Beautiful.”  
_ “Intimidating.” _  
_                 She spun her helmet between her fingers before clasping it with both hands, and buried her head underneath it, “Good.”  
                Small lights decorated her, even with her visor closed.  
“Sidewinder?” Liera held her hand out, “And the munitions case, if you don’t mind.”  
                Danse pulled the weapon out along with a gray box labeled, “Warning: Handle with Care.”  
_“I need a drink…”  
                _ Liera gripped the Sidewinder after he released it from its dungeon.She sat the box on the table and flipped open the latches with her thumbs.  A tiny spiral of what looked like missiles slipped into her pocket, along with other types of ammunition.  
“Pilot,” EV announced, “A Vertibird has been shot down over Fort Strong.  Increased Brotherhood activity responding.  Immediate action recommended.” _  
“Fort Strong…”  
_                 The graveyard for the first of many victims of Recon Squad Gladius.  The first orders he’d given his new squadron that ended in death and a decrease in headcount.  
“Danse?”  
                He didn’t what her to go to that place, the ground zero of his failure.  
“Paladin.”  
                The failed search party guised as a reconnaissance mission and a pile of slush named ‘Cutler,’ formed by the red beams that Danse fired.  
“Saul…” She placed her palm over his stiff elbow, “I’ll be with you every step of the way.  You can do this.”  
                His name filled his ears with static as it hung from her lips. She looked at him like he was the only person in the world, like they weren’t about to go wage war on a compound full of disgusting science experiments.  
                He’d never been looked at like that.  It was more than admiration.  It was something he couldn’t place his finger on, something he didn’t have time to figure out.  
                Liera’s curved lips smiled at him.  
                It wasn’t the perverted version of the act that he’d grown accustomed to seeing. And she wasn’t smiling at something he said, something he did, she was smiling at _him._   He’d almost fallen into the pit that she tried to dig herself out of, and instead of reaching for the ledge, she pushed him out.  
                For a moment, the rustling boots and sirens outside the door faded, and they were alone.  He was admitting his fear, and she was consoling him, all through a wordless gesture.

…

                Danse was lost in a distant place.  Liera saw a familiar tick in his jaw, the same mulling he usually did when he was keeping something to himself for the sake of everyone else.  
_“He lost people there…”  
_                 The thick cords of his muscles shifted under her touch.  
“You can’t shut down on me now.  I can’t do this without you.”  
                She pleaded him to come back, to be the man of action she’d seen on the Observation Deck. He’d been the one to keep her on steady footing, and she wasn’t ready to watch him tumble through the same Hell she had.  
“I need you with me out there, Danse.”  
                A predatory shadow fell over him, and the fear in his eyes turned prey.  
“I have to get my Power Armor.” He spoke in the commanding voice she’d been searching for, “Can you get to the Flight Deck on your own?”  
“I can.”  
“Meet me there.”  
                A deep breath heaved his shoulders, and he stormed passed her.  
_“Atta’ boy.”_

…

                Liera sprinted through the halls underneath spinning red lights.  Her visor was closed, and she ignored the looks of terror that came her way.  
“EV, find a vantage point at Fort Strong and wait for my signal.”  
                A mini-map popped up with a blinking icon with a compass representing EV’s location.  
“Understood.”  
                She ripped towards the ladder leading to the Flight Deck like a missile locked on target. The Mess Hall was crammed with soldiers weaving their way towards their destination.  
                Three bodies failed to break away from the herd, and Liera slid to a halt.  Squad Lynx wasn’t like the others.  They didn’t move out of her way.  Wolfe led the charge, and Liera found herself in a stand-off.  
_“You think you’re the alpha around here, don’t you?”  
_                 She wouldn’t be the one to walk around them instead of through them. She was done being his doormat.  
_“You’re wrong.”_  
“Step aside, Initiate.”  
“Wolfe, we don’t have time for this.”  
                Essen tried to pass him, and he barred her with an arm.  
                Liera tilted her head.  
“That’s Pilot, to you…”  She aimed her Grapple at a low-hanging bar on the ceiling.  Essen and the other squad members scattered.  Wolfe’s unmoving figure lingered just below the pointed tip, and she let it loose.  
                The tether pulled her towards him with blinding speed.  Wolfe stepped aside at the last second and time slowed as their eyes met. His face was briefly highlighted in blue, corrupted with envy.  Or hate, she wasn’t sure.  
                Liera’s feet caught the walls of the _Prydwen,_ and she wallran over the frozen river of soldiers.  
_“I was a Pilot before an Initiate.”_ She looked at the trail of stunned faces before slinging the Sidewinder around her chest, _“And none of you better forget that.”  
_                 Her jumpkit broke her fall down the ladder chute, and she landed in a crouch.  
“Lastimosa!” A distorted voice called from the open Flight Deck door.  
                A suit of Power Armor waved at her.  
“Rhys?!”  
“Yeah!” He waved her over, “Stop hopping around and let’s go!” _  
_                 Liera’s kit pushed her across the metal bridge.  
“Hell yeah, look at you!” He gave her a hulking thumbs up, “Ready to cleanse the Commonwealth?”  
“Fuckin’ right I am.” She patted her Sidewinder, “You’re gonna wish you had one of these bad boys once you see how many Mutants it takes down.”  
“Probably.” He rushed to the Vertibird closest to them, “Where is Paladin Danse?”  
“Right here.”  
                Another filtered voice.  
                He stomped from the other direction with a Gatling gun in his hands.  It had barbed wire wrapped around the barrel, with huge, sharp blades framing its muzzle.  
_“Holy…Shit…”  
                _ The eyes in his helmet were red, and his shoulders bounced from the weight of the hulking weapon.  
“I think _you_ want one of _those._ ” _  
_                 Liera did her best not to gawk.  
“Probably.” She parroted.  
“I wasn’t talking about the gun.”  
“Shut up.”  
                Danse pointed to the gaps in the aircraft where doors should have been.  She was thankful her visor hid her hanging mouth, which snapped shut at his directions.  
“There’s two turrets on either side of the gunship Vertibirds. Rhys and I will man them.”  
“Most ammunition can’t penetrate these bad boys.” Rhys beat a fist on his metal chest.  
“Stay low, and wait for the cables to drop.”  Danse put his gun in the Vertibird, “That’s your signal.”  
“You want me to hang out while you guys have all the fun?!” She called over the engine.  
“You’ll have plenty of opportunity to engage, trust me.” _  
_                 She observed the two machine guns mounted where doors should’ve been.  It reminded her of the older dropships at home, with both sides cut out to make for quicker evacs.  
                Liera climbed in, and immediately found the deployment lines snaked on the sides.  
“Hope you can take a beating in that light getup.” Rhys snickered.  
“Don’t worry,” Liera gripped the Sidewinder in her hands, “I’ve been through my own sort of training.”  
                She knelt in between them, and plucked a bundle of micro-missiles from the larger pouch on her hip.  
_“Survive.”  
_                 One by one, she pushed them down the chamber.  
_“Evade.”_ _  
_                 She’d dodged the wrath of the IMC, and plotted against them from afar.  
_“Resist.”_  
                She resisted the temptation to fall victim to the darkest chapter of her life, and wrote herself stronger on the next page.  
_“Escape.”  
                _ Liera cocked the Sidewinder.  
_“Escape is no longer an option.  Not for me, or anyone stupid enough to get in my way.”  
                _ The Vertibird dropped, and turned towards Fort Strong.  Rhys and Danse took the turrets in their hands.  Danse’s minigun rattled near her feet, scribing an epitaph for the Mutants they moved towards.  
                The wind pushed through the open cabinet, and she watched the Commonwealth blur beneath them.  EV was running in the distance.  Liera’s neck snapped to the opened side behind her as they passed.  EV’s light focused on her, and she waved.  
_“We’re all we’ve got, and we’re all we need.”  
_                 Whether or not her family survived, Liera had been divided from the Militia.  
                But now, she and EV stood with the Brotherhood of Steel, united as one…  
                And they had an ambush to deliver.

 


	18. Show No Mercy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"I am the hell and the high water."_  
>  -Eli Pope

* * *

* * *

 

                he Vertibird’s cabin had little to offer in ways of comfort.  Its engines ravaged the airspace, and small distortions of human life interrupted their trance.  Rhys sniffed behind his helmet and cracked his neck.  Danse rolled his plated shoulders.  Liera crackled her knuckles, and observed the crew silently.  
                This team had been on operations like this before.  They were too relaxed otherwise.  And even though she’d been on plenty of tours during her years of service, she was a bundle of nerves behind the layers of Frontier tech that separated her from them.  
                Even Rico and the rest of the Lancers made her envious of their calmness as they communicated over the radio.  
“18 I have a visual on you at my 3 o’clock.  17, over.”  
**“Roger 17.  On approach to naked zone. 18, over.”  
“20 is blind, repeat, 20 is blind. How copy?”  
“Have visual on 20.  Turn right to a heading of 090. 19, over.”  
“Wilco 19. 20, out.”  
“15 is tally two bandits, four o’clock low.  Prepped to engage, awaiting command.  15, over.”  
** “Roger 15, all Vertibirds stand by.  17 message to follow.”  Rico spoke to Squad Gladius directly, “Paladin, we are clear to engage with zero sign of missile threats.  Awaiting orders to proceed.  Channel is yours.”  
“Understood.”  He cleared his throat, “This is Paladin Danse to all Brotherhood personnel approaching Fort Strong.  All jumps suspended until Titan engagement is a go. Lancers are to use evasive actions, weapons free otherwise.  Impose radio silence. Over.”  
                The gunship hit a pocket of turbulence.  Liera's shoulders bounced,and her head bobbed on top of them.  She saw her heart rate spike on her helmet's monitor, and she dipped the Sidewinder’s barrel between her legs.  
_“Need to calm myself down.”_  
                 She slid the cover open on her wrist computer, and impatient fingers tapped a series of icons.

Message Window (opened by Admin):  
  
[]WARDEN[]: Hello, Pilot.  
  
_MAVERICK is typing…  
_  
[]MAVERICK[]:  Hey.  Looking for some reading material.  Open that transcript between you and Maxson?  
  
[]WARDEN[]: Of course.  Archive search initiated.  Loading file…Relaying eyes-only field copy.

* * *

 

BOS_ELDER_MAXSON004: So, _this_ is a Titan.

BOS_PALADIN_DANSE001: Elder, meet <<EV>>, Initiate <<LASTIMOSA>>’s partner.

BOS_ELDER_MAXSON004: We don’t call tools ‘partners’, Paladin.

BOS_PALADIN_DANSE001: <<VITAL SCANS REVEALED INCREASED HEART RATE>>  
  
CALLSIGN_WARDEN: Greetings, Elder Maxson.  It is an honor to assist the Brotherhood.  
  
BOS_ELDER_MAXSON004: (GRUNTS) Proctor Ingram wasn’t exaggerating when she told me your programming was beyond anything we’ve encountered.  Now, identify your primary functions.  
  
CALLSIGN_WARDEN: Protocol 1- Link to Pilot.  Protocol 2- Uphold the Mission.  Protocol 3- Protect the Pilot.  
  
BOS_ELDER_MAXSON004: And what exactly is the mission you seek to uphold?  
  
CALLSIGN_WARDEN: To prevent hostile <<IMC>> takeover of Planet <<EARTH>>, as stated in Operation: <<WASTELAND ORDER>> briefing conducted by M-COR Brigade Commander <<SARAH BRIGGS>> and SRS Captain <<TAI LASTIMOSA>>.  
  
BOS_ELDER_MAXSON004: Very well. I will permit your sanctuary under strict supervision.  Do not cross me, machine.  It would be unwise for both you and your Pilot.  
  
CALLSIGN_WARDEN: Understood.

BOS_ELDER_MAXSON004: I came to the training yard today to speak with it personally before making any further decisions. Please meet me on the Command Deck once you’ve boarded the _Prydwen._ There’s still the matter of the Initiate, and I have a few questions regarding her file.

BOS_PALADIN_DANSE001: Yes, sir.

BOS_ELDER_MAXSON004: Splendid.

* * *

 

[]WARDEN[]: Transcript concluded.

                Liera ground her teeth, and her nose twitched.  
  
_"Well, this therapy session backfired."_  
  
_MAVERICK is typing…  
_  
[]MAVERICK[]: Wtf?  
  
[]WARDEN[]: Identifying acronym Whisky Tango Foxtrot…  
  
_MAVERICK is typing…  
  
_ []MAVERICK[]: It means- what the duck?  
  
_MAVERICK is typing…  
  
_ []MAVERICK[]: Duck*  
_  
MAVERICK is typing…  
  
_ []MAVERICK[]: FUCK** Goddamn autocorrect.  
  
[]WARDEN[]: Scans report zero mallard activity within the immediate area.  
  
_MAVERICK is typing…  
  
_ []MAVERICK[]: I meant what the fuck is Maxson’s problem…  
  
[]WARDEN[]: Vital signs indicate severe dehydration due to frequent alcohol consumption.  Other noted ailments include, but are not limited to: Wheezing in the lungs, frequent anxiety related complications, and symptoms aligned with the rare disease known as post-orgasm illness syndrome.

                Liera snorted.

 _MAVERICK is typing…  
_  
[]MAVERICK[]: Who is Maxson having sex with?  
  
[]WARDEN[]: Trace elements of perfume match the fragrance worn by Nora Black.  Alternative cause could be masturbation with use of a similarly scented substance.

“Pfft-“  
“Something funny?” Rhys trained his helmet on her.  
“No.” She coughed, “Trying not to sneeze.”  
“...You’re weird.”  
“We’ve established that.”  
“Approaching Fort Strong.  Stand by.” Lancer Rico warned.  
“Alright, team.” Danse gripped the turret mounted to the Vertibird, “Get ready.”  
               

 _MAVERICK is typing…  
_  
[]MAVERICK[]: Gotta go.  Eyes up. Lens up. Whatever.  
  
[]WARDEN[]: I will see you soon.  Take no prisoners, Pilot.  
  
_MAVERICK is typing…  
  
_ []MAVERICK[]: And show no mercy.

                Liera shut the panel and unstrapped her harness.  The Sidewinder’s nose tapped the floor as she crouched next to the deployment line.  
_“Wait for EV, and wait for the order.”  
_                 As they made their advance, Fort Strong became more than the blurred destination they saw from the deck of the _Prydwen._ The diminishing "castle" was surrounded by ruined buildings along a steep drop.  
“Paladin Danse, permission to relay scan reports to Brotherhood teams within the vicinity.” EV asked through Liera’s helmet.  
“Proceed.”  
“This is EV-5649 to Brotherhood advancement personnel. Typography scans report collapsed shores along the coast of Fort Strong.  The bomb that struck the Commonwealth seems to have perpetuated a shift in oceanic activity. Please use caution along the perimeter.  These cliffs are structurally unsound.  Over.”  
                A series of “roger’s” followed by corresponding Vertibird numbers followed.  
**“She knows everything, doesn’t she?”** Essen chimed.  
“Keep the channel clear.” Danse grunted, “Lancers, EV and Lastimosa only until we hit the ground.”  
“Pilot, I have marked a rendezvous point based on _Vertibird 17’s_ flight path.  Reaching location in 20 seconds.”  
“Location onscreen.” Liera’s hand tightened around the cable, “Permission to embark when ready.”  
“Permission granted.” Danse nodded.  
                 His apocalyptic weapon jingled next to her, and she watched it carefully.  Its spikes inched toward her as the vibration of the floor made it turn.  
_“I’d prefer not to get impaled by that thing.”  
_                 She scooted away from it, closer to Danse's leg.  
“You ready?” He asked her.  
“For the most part…”  She watched the timer countdown on her HUD, “But the Mutants shot down a Vertibird…With zero missile threats reported, that makes me a little suspicious.”  
“They hit a disarmed scout.  This time, it’ll be different.” Rhys growled.  
“What he said-“  A bullet bounced off Danse’s shoulder, ricocheting back into the Commonwealth.  
“Targets acquired.” Lancer Rico announced, “Contact, wait out.” _  
_                 Danse’s turret whined like a buzz saw powering through a startup.  Just as it peaked into a high-pitched squeal, the barrel spun rapidly.  It decorated the rooftops of Fort Strong with porous Mutant bodies.  The flashes of ignition flickered repeatedly, and the tip of the gun glowed red with heat.  
“Look at those things bleed!” He shouted.  
_“You’re enjoying yourself too much.”_  
“Hostile onboard.  Battery well compromised.  Assistance required.”  A chirp followed EV’s tense broadcast.  
_“That’s her blind spot…”_  
                Rico kept the aircraft steady as more bullets clanked the sides, “LZ is too hot! I can’t risk getting any closer to the ground!”  
                Liera gripped the black cable in one hand and her Wingman in the other, “You don’t need to!”  
“Go! I’ll cover you!”  Danse continued to suppress the Mutants with sustained turret fire.  
                 A warning barred her HUD mid-jump.  
“Lastimosa stepping off!”

…

                The cord snapped wildly, cracking the whip that guided Liera’s descent. Her glove's friction burned against it, sliding down faster than anticipated.  
                A Super Mutant clung to EV’s battery well despite the electric smoke that spewed from her vents, “Anti-rodeo measures failed.”  
                Liera took aim, “Hang on!”  
“Pilot, you are reaching terminal velocities.”  
“Shhh! Trajectories, EV!"  
                Three orange lines reduced the Mutant to a build of vitals and kill-shots.  Liera fired twice, fatally wounding his jugular and head. He slumped forward, leaving a crimson gloss on EV's chassis as he slid off the well and hit the ground.  
                Liera’s fist met the end of its rope, and she broke into freefall. _  
_**“What did she mean by ‘terminal velocities?’”** Danse screeched in her helmet.  
“Not sure how else to explain that one!” Her gear rattled and she rag-dolled from the gusts.  
                 Straining her neck to stay in place, she fired her Grapple, "EV!  Arm up!"   
                 EV 's armor caught the hook, and she held her limb in the air, "Carried momentum-"  
“I KNOW!”  
                 Liera jerked as her body course-corrected from the reeling tether on her arm.  The quickly shortening leash arched, allowing her feet to miss the ground by inches. Her jumpkit sling-shotted her towards a building guarded by Mutants.  
_“Gotta-slow-down-“  
                _ A red exclamation point blinked on her visor.She grabbed a frag grenade from her waist and held the detonator button down.  
_“Have-to-cook-it-fuck-that-wall’s-getting-close-“  
_                 Liera threw the explosive at the window, shooting it just before it met the building’s exterior.  
_“This is gonna hurt.“  
_                 The wall burst in a pile of rubble, and Liera soared through the flames.  The explosion threw her jumpkit’s calibration, and the right side of her body skidded along the floor until her back collided with a cabinet.

…

“Lastimosa, come in.  Lastimosa!”  Danse hollered over the channel, “EV, what’s going on?”  
_“Please be okay.”_  
“Pilot Lastimosa is unresponsive.”  EV sidestepped and fired on the Mutants with her railgun, clearing a path to the smoking building.  
_“Damn it.”  
_**“Gladius, what’s your status?”** Essen reported in.  
“Initiate Lastimosa has engaged, repeat, Lastimosa engaged!  All units move in!”  
“Rico, can you get us close enough to jump?” Rhys shouted.  
"Rhys, what do the bullets bouncing off my Vertibird tell you?!"   
                EV ran into the clearing between a cluster of buildings and the main office of Fort Strong.  A glowing wall blocked her front, standing as tall as she was.  
“Lancer Rico, I have dropped a particle wall facing enemy contact.  This field blocks incoming shots and amps outgoing fire.  You may use it as a barrier to deploy Knight Rhys and Paladin Danse.”  
“Roger that, EV!” The Vertibird pivoted on the cockpit while the tail spun around in a sharp turn.  
_“_ _Stay alive.  We’re coming.”_

…

                Liera glared at the floating copies that swerved, waiting for the room to solidify into a single image.  Her right eye was glued shut by a thick, red paste.  
_“Shit…"_ _  
_                 She coughed in the settling dust, and shrugged the fallen cabinet off her body.  
_"I'm going to feel this tomorrow."_  
                A low growl snapped her attention, and a blob on four legs charged.  It was one of the Mutant dogs she’d seen at the airport- green, deformed, and with a head that resembled a fish with elongated fangs.  
_“Fangs that want to rip my fucking head off.”_  
                She swiped her arm, ripping it from the hound’s jaws and landing a kick to its stomach.  Instead of attacking, it stood at a distance barking up a staircase.  
“Shut the-” She slung a bullet across the room, “- _fuck_ up!”  
                The hound yelped and plopped on its side.  She held her head, the pistol’s grip still in hand.  The ringing in her ears continued, and the wound on her forehead withheld a steady flow.  Heavy footsteps pounded the ceiling, shaking dust from the underside.  
“Pilot, enemy targets moving on your location.”  
**“Lastimosa!”** Rhys called, **“We’re on the ground! Making our way over now!”  
** “Focus on the main building…” Liera stood up with the help of her Hemlok’s stock, “I’ve got this.”

…

                Danse and Rhys ducked behind a concrete barrier.  Its age was apparent by the worn Army logo, but it was strong enough to keep them from being shot in the event EV’s wall failed.  
“I can’t believe you pushed me off!” Danse lowered his head to reload a new clip.  
“You mean _helped_ you?!” Rhys covered him, shooting a flanking Mutant in the chest with his rifle.  
“For the last time, I am _not_ afraid of heights!” Danse mounted his machinegun on top of the barrier.  
                He held the gun by its upper handle with one hand and the back with the other.  It hissed before firing another round of armor-penetrating bullets through EV’s amp shield.  His knee kept it stable, and he rotated it as if it were hinged.  
_“I don’t understand the physics of this wall, but damn does it make these bullets hurt.”_  
                A three-fingered prong connected to the barrier between Danse and Rhys, dividing them with a vibrating cord.  They looked at it together and turned to find Liera sliding along the ground with her jumpkit aimed behind her.  She hit the concrete with her side and exhaled dramatically.  
“Not my best work.”  Her suit was bloody and black, looking ruffled and out of place, “One Hell of an entrance though, amirite?”  
“You don’t look so great.” Danse shot a Mutant threatening a deploying Vertibird to their right, “You okay?”  
                A red line trickled down the inside of her helmet, and her legs shook from her weight as she took to one knee.  
“Will be.”  She sounded weak, but optimistic all the same, “Cover me, yeah?”  
                She dug in the flapped pocket on her leg frantically, pulling out a large cylinder with a rotating needle dispenser. She clicked a button, and the needle previously used fell.  A new one replaced it.  
**“Pilot, unstable heart patterns could cause serious complications with use of Pilot Stim**. **”** EV warned, crushing an enemy with her fist.  
“Don’t do anything to compromise your well-being.” Danse yelled over the gunfire.  
“That’s a joke, right?”  
                A bullet bounced off the particle shield.  
“Point taken.” He returned fire.  
                A subtle laugh evolved from a huff out of Liera’s helmet, “This is what they trained me for.  Galaxies away or not, I’m not about to make the Militia look bad.”

…

                The needle penetrated Liera’s jumpsuit, and she injected 10mg of Stim into her bloodstream.  She dropped the kit back in its holder just as the surge hit her nerves.   It ripped through her body, closing the wound on her head and stabilizing her lungs.  She opened her visor, wiped her face off, and armed herself with her Sidewinder.  
“Addiction probability increased by 5%.”  
“Not a priority right now, EV."  _  
_                 Liera released a battle cry as her fully-automatic micro missiles tore through the amp shield, detonating on the nearest Mutants’ cover.  Her shots were sporadic and ill-aimed, but her cybernetic arm kept the recoil in check.  The enemies fell after the Brotherhood took advantage of the newly-exposed Mutants.  
“That building you landed in secure?” Rhys fired next to her.  
“Cleared it before I regrouped.  Stair access to the roof-“  
                A crack sent a ripple through the particle wall, and the towering shield turned from blue to orange.  
“Warning: Sniper detected.   Brotherhood be advised, this building contains nuclear warheads at subterranean levels.  Titan weapons cannot engage without structural damage and risk for nuclear explosion.”  
                Liera chuckled, “Translation: EV can’t fire on that building or else it’ll collapse and blow this peninsula out of the water.  Let me handle that sniper!”  
**“No argument here!”** A Knight yelled over the radio.  
“Lastimosa, watch your six and take them out!  Rhys, on me! We’re going onto the western roof once the coast is clear!”  Danse watched the Mutants recollect themselves.  
                Liera shut her visor, “On it!”  
                She looped an elbow on the other side of the barrier, and her legs swept over the top.

…

  
“Initiate!” Danse shouted, horrified at her careless exit onto the battlefield.  
                Her figure flickered in and out of existence.  She ran into a stream of bullets pushing the ground up around her.  He lost visual as she became completely invisible.  
“She’s definitely crazy.” Rhys huddled next to him, “Let’s get out of this mess so we can help her.”  
“Yeah.” Danse picked up his spiked machinegun, “She has to live so I can bore her to death with a lecture.”

…

                Liera pulled herself over the ledge of the roof just in time for her cloak to run out.  The sniper let loose gargled Mutant speech and aimed an elongated barrel at her.  
_“Hope you’re a gambling man.”  
_                 A holo-pilot split from her side, and she ran alongside the digital copy.  The Mutant fired at the wrong image, and Liera leapt in the air.  
“WRONG!”  
                Her Sidewinder wrapped around his throat, and she used the nook of her elbow to pull the barrel closer.  Her knees dug into the Mutant’s back, and she struggled to keep the choke snug as he tugged the weapon away.  She grit her teeth as she wrangled the beast, her legs wrapping around its large waist.  He swung left, then right, doing everything he could to shake her free.  
                Liera roared as the last breath left the Mutant with the help of her modified limbs.  His tall body fell backwards, and the air was knocked out of her chest as she was pinned underneath it.  She only freed her legs up to her thighs before the roof access door slammed open and another contender stomped through.  
“Why are there so many of you?!” _  
_                 A row of bullets penetrated the roof, snaking towards the Mutant like an invisible creature locked on target.  The bullet spray focused once it hit the Mutant, and puffs of blood splattered the ground as each shot made a fresh hole.  
**“Lynx has you covered, Lastimosa!”** Essen’s Vertibird looped back around, and she waved at Liera from behind a turret.  
“Why are you guys still airborne?!  It’s dangerous down here!”  
**“Saving your ass!  Now cover us!”**  
                Liera grunted as she slammed the sniper rifle against the waist-level brick ledge that gave her a new vantage point.  
_“And Danse calls_ me _reckless…”_

…

                Danse and Rhys climbed the exposed staircase.  The ocean crashed into the cliff behind them, and Danse peaked out of the collapsed wall facing the western edge of the peninsula.  
_“That’s a long way down into nothing...”  
_                 Rhys stepped over two bodies that got caught mid-roll, “Knife marks, bullet holes, singe patterns…Jesus, remind me never to piss her off.”  
“EV isn’t enough of a reminder not to do that?” Danse turned, and continued his ascent.  
“Yeah, sure, but this…Man, this kind of damage is personal.  She’s working out some serious emotional shit out here.  Makes her dangerous.  Unpredictable.”  
                Danse surveyed the carnage, “Makes her _useful_.  And these Mutant bastards deserved it.”  
“I really hate it when you sound like me and I sound like you.”  
                Sunlight flooded the remnants of the musty hall as Danse kicked a door open, leading to the roof, “We’ll discuss this later.  Let’s give the ground troops some real fire support.”  
                EV was doing her best to attack with minimal use of firearms, crushing Mutants with her feet and hands whenever she could, **“Attention Brotherhood, a bomb detonator has been initiated in the lower levels of Fort Strong.  This is in concordance with the nuclear stockpile located under Pilot Lastimosa’s current position.  Titan EMP could disable the detonater, however, all Power Armor and Vertibirds within the perimeter would be effected.  Countdown is 10 minutes.  Manual disarm required.”**  
**“Shit, what?!”** Essen panicked, **“That kind of blast could reach the _Prydwen!”_**  
“Clear the goddamn channel!” Danse shouted, “EV, how many hostiles are in the building?”  
**“Minimal. The Super Mutants are evacuating the building and headed towards your mark.”  
                ** A line of Mutants exited the entrance under Liera’s firing post.  The outer soldiers of the formation covered their retreating comrades, doing their best to hold the line as EV and the rest of the Brotherhood tried to take them out.  
**“On my way.”** Liera responded.  
“Stay put.” Danse ordered, “We can’t afford to lose that position.”  
“Guys-“ Rhys tried to interject.  
**“If the bomb goes off, we’re all dead anyway!”  
** “HEY!” Rhys broke their argument, “Danse and I can enter from the back and take care of it.  I know all about shit that makes other shit go boom.”  
                Danse watched the Mutants overrun a small squad of Brotherhood soldiers.  A single Knight adorned in Power Armor took two out before succumbing to the overwhelming enemy force.  
_“We’re losing…”_  
                He hoisted his weapon in his hands, “Go. I’ll hold this building.”  
“That’s suicide. You'll-"  
“I said get your ass down there!  That’s an order!”  
                Rhys shook his head, and his chin turned away before the rest of his body responded.  
“Ad Victoriam, Paladin.” He ran towards the edge of the building and jumped.  
Danse propped up his gun, “Ground troops, prioritize any Mutants evacuating the perimeter!” **  
** They scrambled at his order, posting up behind cover and doing as commanded.  He did his best to assist them, moving towards the corner of the roof’s barrier ledge as the evacuees scattered.  A few of them disappeared into his blind spot underneath him.  
_“This is not going as planned.”  
_**“Paladin Danse, a Mutant squadron has defeated the western edge of the firing squad.  Building breach imminent.”** EV warned. **  
**_“I’m not dying.”_   His powered suit held his machinegun steady as he took aim at the roof’s entrance, _“Not by them.”_

…

 **  
**                 Liera’s visor met the sniper rifle’s scope.  
_“Only two shots left…where to put them?”_  
                She zeroed in on Danse, who was quickly surrounded by four enemies bounding through the roof’s access door.  
_"That'll do."  
_ "EV, what am I working with?"  
“Wind: N 14 mph/Gusts 24 mph.  Humidity: 31%, Temperature 27 degrees C. Barometric pressure: 758.2mm; rising slowly.  Visibility 10 km.  Target of opportunity:  .65 km from position.  Prosthetics synced with helmet at 100%.  TATU engaged, fire when ready.” EV wrote across her visor.  
“Copy that.  Waiting for the shot.”  
              She lined up her gun, and licked her drying lips.  
_“Green Mutant assholes...Come hell or high water, you can’t have him.”_

…

                Danse yelled and backhanded the Mutant pulling at the machinegun in his hands. Taking advantage of the gap in the struggle, he pushed the spiked tip in his opponent’s stomach.   The sharpened blades began to spin, carving a hole in its victim and firing a round of shot in the ground.  
                A display of guts and blood splattered his Power Armor, and a strong smack knocked him off balance.  He was interrupted in his attempt to dislodge his weapon from the gushing body.  
                Danse’s arms were locked in place by two Mutants holding him by his biceps.  Nuclear fusion core overload warnings flashed on his screen.  He struggled to free himself from their abnormal strength, and the arms on the diagram of his suit were highlighted in red.  
_“Genetically enhanced freaks!”_  
                They fought against him and drug him towards the edge facing the water.  A third Mutant tauntingly tapped a long, sharp blade against his palm.  He squinted and smiled, taking a step forward.  
**“Move your head to the right!”  
                ** If there was anything Danse’s experience in the field taught him, it was not to ignore random orders in situations like this.  
_“Especially not from her.”  
_                 He cranked his neck, and his helmet moved out of the way.  
                Pop.  A head exploded.  The warning on his left arm faded.  
**“To the left!”  
                ** Danse complied.  Another distant crack verberated the sky, and a second bloody implosion followed.  His right arm was stabilized.  A reflection of a scope twinkled over the shoulder of the last Mutant standing.  
**“LOOK OUT!”**  
                The Mutant charged, and his shoulder collided with Danse’s chest.

…

  
                On the other end of her scope, Liera watched Danse struggle to fight the armored Mutant.  His back was bent over the ledge, and his head dangled above what she knew was a 60 foot drop that bottomed out in the ocean.  
_“He’s trying to push him off!"  
_                 Liera tossed the empty sniper rifle and sprinted across the rooftop.  A warning from EV fluttered on her screen with an arrow pointing to the left, “Mutant armed with projectile spotted.” **  
“19 reporting a spike!  Repeat, aiming at us from East Side!”** The Lancer from Lynx’s Vertibird panicked.  
**“Lastimosa, where are you-”** Essen’s voice trailed.  
                Liera looked up as her jumpkit continued to take her through a maze of wall runs, double-jumps, and slides to avoid enemy fire.  
**“What’s going on up there?!”** Rhys called.  
                A winding trail left the eastern building, spear-headed by a rocket’s red glare. **  
“Deploying counter shot.”**   EV’s heat-seeking missile collided with the Mutant’s, saving the Vertibird from a direct hit.  
                The burst sent shockwaves through the air, and the gunship wobbled.  
**“Shrapnel shell!”** Essen yelled, **“Engines fried! We’re going down, we’re going-“**  
                Squad Lynx’s Vertibird spun out of control. Splintered pieces fired at the Brotherhood and Mutants fighting underneath it, and the hull was headed for Danse.  
                Liera fell into the shadow of the fiery ball targeting the building.  Orange chunks of metal rained down, leaving puffed lines of smoke in their wake.  The race against the shot-down Vertibird to Danse’s mark began.  
_“Almost there-“_  
                Her feet hit the western roof.  The Mutant turned his neck to roar.  She ignored him, and kept running.  A metallic aching rippled through the air as the impending impact bit on her heels.  _Vertibird 19_ crashed into the roof, it’s propellers breaking off and flying in all directions as they continued to spin.  The glass from the cockpit flew like razors.  
                The building collapsed foot by foot as the Vertibird flipped, it’s tail slapping down next to Danse and the Mutant.  The ledge they struggled on crumbled, and both of them toppled over.

…

                 
                The force from falling penetrated Danse’s gut, pushing his insides to his throat.  His neck pulsated under sweating skin.  His breathing was quick and shallow.  The Vertibird’s diminishing tail hanging over the cliff flashed between the sight of waves as he rolled.  Red letters reading, “SYSTEM MALFUNCTION,” scrolled across his screen.  
                An aftershock explosion engulfed the last visible bit of the crash.  A hole opened from within the black cloud, and a metal clank hit the chest of his Power Armor.  His arms were tethered against him by a shaking tendril.  It began to retract, facing him towards the sky.  
                A helmet collided with his, and his vision sensors went dark.  
“EV, how do I get this thing open?!”  
                He heard the shout from outside.  
“Valve on back.  Counter-clockwise.  Shutting systems down, engaging aquatic mode.”  EV’s voice was low, coming from somewhere other than a speaker.  
“DANSE HOLD YOUR BREATH-“  
                Liera’s warning melted away in a watery collision.  His body jerked, held in place by the frame under his Power Armor.  Salt water sprang through the new gaps in his helmet, and soon, he was fully submersed.

…

                The sudden break in motion made Liera dizzy, and it wasn’t before long that they were sinking.  Her systems were muted, save for the notifications on screen:  
  
AQUATIC MODE: ACTIVATED  
WATER SEAL INTEGRITY: 96%  
REMAINING OXYGEN: 5 MINUTES  
AUTOMATIC LIFEJACKET INFLATION: 3 MINUTES  
SYSTEMS: TEMPORARILY OFFLINE TO AVOID WATER DAMAGE  
JUMPKIT PROPELLERS ENGAGING  
  
                It was calm and quiet in the ocean, save for the infrequent currents that pushed her around like the anomaly she was.  It was peaceful despite the impending death that faced her.  Danse’s Armor became visible in the fading cloud of foam.  
_“Save him.”_  
                A red light toggled on the side of her helmet, and a stream of bubbles left her waist. She used the edges of his armor to position herself underneath the sinking suit.  Her hands caught the valve on his back, and her thighs squeezed the outer plates of his legs.  
                Liera’s neck and back arched towards the twinkling blue ceiling above them, cursing the mechanism for being so heavy.  
_“God…Fucking...”  
_                 She grit her teeth as more bubbles escaped the armor with each crank, and the silver limbs began to break away from Danse’s body.  
  
WATER PRESSURE LEVEL: SYSTEM CRITICAL  
VISOR INTEGRITY: 22%

                The warning flashed, not followed by data and solutions like normal.  Liera kept turning the valve as the water grew colder and the surface grew farther.  A sudden thud met her back, and a plume of sand surrounded them.  
_“SHIT!”  
_                 She squirmed underneath the weight of the armor, using the last bit of her mechanical strength to roll it over on its chest.  Liera pulled on the valve to drift her body over him, and she anchored her feet under Danse’s knees.  
_“You better be alive after all this…”_  
                An opportunity presented itself as the back panel broke open.  She slipped her hands in between the cracks, and yelled as she pulled.  The valve began to turn automatically.  The metal bent around her prosthetic fingers, leaving an imprint along the smooth edge.  Just as an orange jumpsuit became visible, a heavy crack hit the side of her head.

…

                Danse’s body went limp, and floated away from the protective frame that saved his life.  
_“How?”_  
                His holotags drifted to his nose, and he jerked his head as a muted pound sent a cloud of sand upwards.  A piece of Mutant armor shaped like a cylinder buried itself, and another came sinking after.  
_“Looks like the Mutant survived, too.”  
_                 A current swept over him as a wave broke overhead.  It pushed his stunted body, sending a cold burst of water through him.  His lungs contracted, and a stream of bubbles escaped his lips.  Danse’s hands instinctively clutched his throat as he coughed, taking in a mouthful of death.  
                A red light reflected on his armor, and his hair fluttered across his eyes as he pointed himself towards it.  The projection came from a floating silhouette, blocking the surface of the ocean they invaded.  
_“Liera…”_  
                His legs snaked behind him, and he kicked off his hollow Power Armor.  He clawed at the dark water, focusing on the small, blinking red dot connected to her head.  
                Her hands and feet drifted lazily forward as he caught her waist in his arms, thankful the jumpkit had some sort of underwater functionality.  
                But his head felt like it was about to burst.  The urge to breathe was agonizing.  A slow cascade of saltwater trickled up his nose.  His lungs burned as if he inhaled lava, but his chest was cold all the same.  
_“This is it.”_

 

…

 

_The beach was relaxing, and the breeze was soft.  Ryan waved at her from down the shore, trotting closer in nothing but shorts.  
“Nice day for a swim, isn’t it?” He smiled, putting his hands on his hips, “Just like you to show up overdressed.”  
                Liera looked down to find herself wearing a drenched Militia jumpsuit.  
“I guess so.”  
                Ryan gazed at the waves crashing into the western beach of the village.  
“I like him, you know.” He crossed his muscular arms.  
“Who?”  
“The new guy.  He’s good for you…Maybe not as good as me, but he has my stamp of approval.”  
                She frowned at the incoming tide, bringing a thin layer of water around her boots.  
“Well, I’ll let you get back to it.” He turned his back on her.  
                She grabbed his shoulder and forced him around, “Where do you think you’re going?”  
“I can go wherever I want.  I’m dead.” His face darkened, “And if you don’t wake up, he’ll be dead too.”  
“What?  
“Danse. He’s drowning.”_

…

                _  
_ AUTOMATIC LIFEJACKET SYSTEMS ENGAGING

                A click interrupted the sounds of rolling ocean as Liera woke up.  Danse was next to her, and she secured her grip around him just before her automated ascent to the surface began. _  
_                 His mouth was hanging open, and his eyes were closed.  
_“I can’t lose you too…”  
                _ After what seemed like an eternity, they broke through the water.  Danse’s head rested on her shoulder, lifelessly bobbing in the waves that tossed them mercilessly.  They weren’t too far off a stretch of beach that lined the edge of Fort Strong.  There was no longer gunfire coming from inside the walls.  
                A stomping force shook the cliff, and EV’s ocular lens poked over the remnants of the burning building.  
“ _EV!_ ” Liera shouted, “EV!”  
                EV’s arm extended downward as far as it would reach, and Liera aimed her Grapple.  It failed to connect, and slapped against the ocean as it fell.  
“Pilot, I cannot reach you.” EV answered from her speaker, “I suggest you navigate towards the front of Fort Strong where the shore is more intact.  Use your Grapple to pull yourself along the cliff, and be mindful of incoming chops.”  
                Her lens turned, and she pointed in the direction she spoke of, “I will meet you there.”  
                EV disappeared back into the center of the fort, leaving Liera and Danse to float by themselves.  
                Liera adjusted her arm as his body began to slip from her grasp, and her lips quivered.  
_“Oh, no you don’t.  You don’t get out of this that easy.”_

…

                _Cutler ran a rag over the stand, wringing water over a rusted bucket.  Rivet City was bleak and unwelcoming, and their small business was all they had.  
“Made 254 caps so far.” Danse loaded his pistol, eyeing up the box under the stand, “Keep a lookout for bandits.  I’m not in the mood for a repeat of last week.”  
“Lighten up, Saul.” Cutler rolled his eyes, “You’re paranoid, you know that?”  
“One of us has to be.”  
“No, I mean clinically paranoid.  You almost shot that girl at the bar for hitting on you.”  
“She put her hand on my shoulder, and I didn’t know her.”  
                Cutler sighed, “You’re never gonna get laid if you don’t let strange girls touch you.”  
“I’ll pass.”  
“Suit yourself… Actually, keep it up.  I’ll be the knight in shining armor to protect her from you.  That’ll get me some brownie points for sure.”  
“You’re hopeless.”  
                A Vertibird crackled over the skyline, and it’s landing gear deployed.  
“Speaking of knights in shining armor…Looks like the Brotherhood sent its recruitment goonies out here again.”  
“You thinking about joining?” Danse looked up from his chair.  
“Can’t say I haven’t considered it.” He winked, “Ladies always love a man in uniform.”  
“Seriously, Cutler? The Brotherhood protects all of us.  They’re more than a uniform.  They stand for something in this shithole of a world.”  
“Man, sounds like you want to join too.”  Cutler rubbed his arm, “Shit, I don’t care if this is where we grew up.  Anything beats this place…”  
“What the hell are we waiting for, then?” Danse stood, shoving his pistol in its holster.  
“Hey, hey.  Slow down there, cowboy. Business is booming, and I…” Cutler eyed up the stand.  
                It was covered in scrap metal they’d almost died collecting from an abandoned raider outpost.  
“…You’re right. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”_

…

                 
                Phantoms beat on Danse’s chest, delivering a force without a touch.  They tilted his head back, and pinched his nose.  A warm ring formed around his mouth.  A gust invaded him, hot and strong.  And then another.  
“Saul, wake up!”  
                The ghost that denied him rest spoke.  It was a panicked voice, one that was soft and urgent.  An accent that was foreign, yet familiar.  
“I need you, damn it!”  
                She was angry.  
                Another heavy push on his chest.  There was a crack that echoed in his comatose state from somewhere deep in his being.  A second storm rushed him.  The wind carried on, scooping water out of his lungs.  The black began to burn away, peeling back in flecks inch by inch.  
                A wet strand of hair stuck to a strained face.  The nose on it moved closer, and his mouth was sealed by something soft with a certain degree of yearning, gentleness, and ferocity.  His nostrils unstuck slowly as they were released. The beats on his chest returned.  
“Saul Johnfield fucking Danse!” She cried, “WAKE UP!”

…

                Liera’s mouth was filled with water.  She pulled back, spitting out the remnants of ocean Danse pushed into her.  He coughed repeatedly, and she immediately put the side of her head against his chest.  
                Thump. Thump. Thump.  His heart beat rapidly, and he squirmed.  
“Saul?”  She raised her chin sheepishly, darting between each of his blinking eyes.  
“Liera…”  He choked.  
                 She supported his neck and he spat more water on himself. His eyes were lit with fear.  
“I’m here.”  Liera squeezed his hand.  
“Behind…”  
“Hm?”  
“You…”  
                A blade came down on them, and her prosthetic instinctively shielded her face.  The sharpened edge dug deep into her forearm, and her back collided with Danse’s stomach.  
                The wet Mutant pushed down harder, placing its palm on the back of the thin slab of metal.  A plate was nailed to its side, reading, “Massachusetts.  99NK92.  The Spirit of America.” _  
_                 She pushed back as it got closer to her face.  Something brushed against her thigh, and her holster became lighter.  Her Wingman’s barrel met the side of the Mutant’s head, and a bullet sent its brains flying.  
                Danse supported himself on his elbow, and the hand holding the gun crossed Liera’s chest as his head hit the sand.  She laid there, gasping for a moment- allowing herself to be held by him.  Her head rose and fell with his breathing, the motion she’d refused to give up on restoring.  
“Fires nice.” He coughed.  
“Yeah.  They don’t call it the Wingman for nothing.”  
                Liera’s arm twitched, and a spark flew from it.  
“Is that normal?”  
“No.” She leaned forward, “It hurts.  It’s not supposed to hurt.” _  
_                 Liera cradled her arm and cringed at the inch-deep cleave set deep in its bearings. Danse tried to sit up next to her.  He yelped and gripped his chest, falling on his back.  
“Stay put…I’m working on getting us out of here.  My systems are almost reinitialized.” She frowned at the helmet dangling from her waist, “But for now, we’re blind.”  
“Did we lose the fort?”  
                Gargled orders put her on alert, and she held a finger to her mouth, signaling Danse to be quiet.  She flipped herself behind him, and drug him farther up the shore.  His neck arched in pain, and his teeth clenched as he suppressed a yell.  
                Liera propped his back against her chest, and her Hemlok pointed at the source of the sound.  They were out in the open, and she was prepared to protect him with her life.  After three Mutants came from the main entrance doors, she felt like she might have to.  
                She wasted no time firing on them, using the element of surprise to her advantage.  The gun made a grinding noise, and the chamber seized.  
“Shit, it’s jammed!”  She lowered her weapon, and watched a Mutant aim at them.   
                Liera flipped in front of Danse, taking the pistol from him and blocking him with her body.  
                His breaths came in ragged heaves, and he gripped her shoulder with his hand, “Get…down-“  
                She and the Mutants traded shots, and the beach shook underneath them.

…

“Perfect timing!” Liera vanished.  
                A blue wave of light shielded Danse from the ambush.  It rippled with every bullet that it caught, sending static towards the outer rim.  
                With each inch of his body the vortex shield encased, the hairs on his body raised.  The fibers in his muscles flared.  His holotags floated up to his eyes just like they had in the ocean, and fell to his chest as the glimmering wall passed over him.      
“Danse, it’s going to be okay!”  
                The distance between him and Liera’s voice alarmed him.  He turned his neck to see her gripping a bar above EV’s battery well, and a heavy force caught his waist.  
                EV’s steel fingers curled around him, and Danse found himself airborne.  He moved closer towards the bright light of her eye.  The cockpit doors opened and shut in what felt like the same millisecond.  The numbered panels he observed from what seemed like a lifetime ago initialized, locking in position amongst each other’s edges.  
                The battlefield became littered with data and analytics that he didn’t understand.  
“Friendly Pilot on the Hull.” A notification flickered.  
“L…Liera?” Danse whispered.  
                An icon popped up on the right, and melded into a box labeled:  
LIVE CAM: L.LASTI  
                Two purple eyes replaced a generic avatar, and the reflection of gunfire twinkled inside them.  Sounds of conflict came through the comms, and her wobbling camera gave the sense of motion.  
“I’m here, Saul.  EV is going to take care of you.”  
                One by one, the bullets caught in EV’s shield ceased their relaxed floating.  They pointed at the Mutants who fired them, and with a flick of her wrist, EV buried them into their skulls.  
“Targets eliminated.”  
                The mess of thermal readings that made their figures grew cold- a blur of yellows, oranges, and reds all made obsolete by EV’s system.  
“I’m…” Danse swallowed, “This…”  
“Please remain seated.”  
                The ground pulled away, and the inertia from EV standing made his head spin.  A harness ejected from the seat, and pulled him closer to the cushions.  Bracers spun around his wrists from the armrests, and more secured his legs.  
“Safety restraints activated.  Do not panic.”  
                They turned towards Fort Strong.  Each camera popped up screens that acted independently, zooming in on points of interest and evaluating them by ranked hazard.  
“EV…” Liera croaked, “Scan the wreckage for survivors.”  
                An orange pulse sprang from Danse’s location.  Pings of red illuminated the surface as it glided over the earth.  
“Are those readings accurate?” She asked hesitantly.  
                One camera locked on Liera, enlarging the screen that showed her standing on the edge of a building.  Her right foot rested on the ledge, and her Sidewinder’s barrel sat on her shoulder.  Her finger remained on the trigger, and she evaluated the same scene they did.  
“Pilot…”  
                Danse frowned, and his jaw tightened.  
_“EV sounds…sad.”_  
“…The crash of _Vertibird 19_ neutralized the remaining Mutant troops, and 60% of Brotherhood of Steel ground forces.  Zero survivors found in the centralized location of the wreckage.”  
**“Would have been a lot less casualties if you held your position, Lastimosa.”** Essen growled over the comms, **“This is your fault, and I’m going to make sure I tell Maxson that in my report.”**  
                Liera turned her helmet, and it was if she was looking at Danse.  He could still see her eyes in the other camera’s view.  They slanted and her brow creased.  
**“I didn’t see the-“  
“Save it.  You made it clear where your priorities lie.  Countless Brotherhood soldiers were taken because of it, including Lancer Norman and Knight Cassidy of Squad Lynx.”**  
**“The bomb was disarmed.  The nuclear stockpile was secured.”** Rhys crackled through the channel, **“Their sacrifice wasn’t in vain, Essen.”**  
                Danse looked on to the flaming Vertibird, and the injured men and women that limped around it. Bodies of both species lined the clearing, smoldering and mixed.  
**“It’s funny how things work.”** Essen continued, **“At first I thought it was your Titan I’d never trust, and she’s the only reason the few of us made it out of this.  Now I know it’s _you_ I have to worry about.”  
“Essen, I’m sorry your friends died.  I’m sorry any of the Brotherhood soldiers did.” ** Liera opened her visor, **“But I’m only one person.  You can’t pin this all on me.”  
“I _can_ , and I _will_.  If you held your position, you would’ve been able to take down that grenadier and the Vertibird wouldn’t have been blown out of the sky.”  
“What was I supposed to stop him with?  The sniper rifle that was empty?”  
“Bullshit.”  
                ** Liera’s remorsefulness shifted into rage, **“That rifle had two shots left.  The munitions box the sniper brought with him was damaged by _your_ support.”  
“Should’ve left you on your own, then.  Won’t make that mistake again.”  
“You weren’t even supposed to be in the sky!”  
“What choice did I have?  And where did you put those so called two shots?”  
** “Into two Mutants who had me restrained on top of the western building.” Danse interjected, “Now, if we’re done blaming each other for what happened here, I’d like to wrap this up so we can all go home.”  
                Neither of them had anything to say.  
“EV, send word to the _Prydwen_ that Fort Strong has been secured and is ready for procurement.  Have the Field Scribes mobilized and request immediate medical attention.”  
**“Wait, uh...”** Rhys sounded sketchy, **“I…uhm…found something.  So…maybe hold off on the Scribes for now.”**  
“What’s wrong?”  
                Rhys sighed, “Just…Danse, Lastimosa- get down here.  You’re gonna want to see this.”


	19. Cause and Effect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"It has been said that something as small as the flutter of a butterfly's wing can ultimately cause a typhoon halfway around the world."_  
>  -Chaos Theory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ** _Archive Quick Reference Guide_**  
>   
>  **ARES Division:** The Archaeological RESearch Division (ARES Division) is an armed research wing of the IMC on Typhon. General Marder sees the IMC's war with the Militia as the main obstacle to humanity's evolution on the Frontier. Employing mercenaries to minimize IMC losses, Marder's ARES Division seeks "emergent technologies," to solve the problem.  
>  **The Butterfly Effect:** In chaos theory, the butterfly effect is the sensitive dependence on initial conditions in which a small change in one state of a deterministic nonlinear system can result in large differences in a later state. Read more [here.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10296845/chapters/27151185)
> 
>  
> 
> **I do not recommend continuing before reading Jack's previous chapters if you have not done so already.**
> 
>  
> 
> *****This chapter includes sexual content.*****

* * *

 

* * *

 

                elted steel fused with bone, and muscle matter hung from debris like a white flag’s surrender. Survivors wriggled under their caretakers, either groaning in pain or screaming in realization they were on the brink of dying.  Ignited gasoline burned the last bits of skin on the victims it claimed, and their ashes drifted around the sole Militant marching through the hellfire.  
_"Same battlefield, different solar system...”_  
                Liera’s visor glitched and corrected, working out the kinks from her underwater excursion.  Her thumb looped under the Sidewinder’s strap digging in her shoulder.  The jagged underside of her boots caught less traction as they became clogged with the clay formed by earth and blood.  
                Her gear and jumpsuit sweated, rubbing against her skin and sending sparks from her elbow.  She pulled her sleeve out from under her gauntlet, rolling it tight to keep it above the crackling wound. _  
_                 She lifted her chin, and saw EV patiently waiting for her.  
“I’m coming, I’m coming...” Liera shrugged her sliding Sidewinder back into place.  
_“I just wish all this didn’t feel so familiar.”_

…

                Danse squinted and turned to his right, startled by the tube that leashed him.  His nose and mouth were covered by a cup that dug into his skin.  The soggy cockpit’s chair was uncomfortable, and he wriggled under its braces.  
“EV?” He muttered, fogging his mask.  
“Good afternoon, Paladin.”  
“What’s going on?”  
“You lost consciousness shortly after the administered Stim dissipated in your system.  Side effects will wear off in approximately 41 minutes.” **  
**                 Every shallow breath he took felt like a chisel to his lungs, “What’s this mask for?”  
“Do not be alarmed.  The nebulizer is supplying a filtered flow of oxygen.  I recommend an extended period of rest, as the fractures in your ribs will heal more efficiently.”  
_“Fractured ribs? That explains it.”  
_ “Opening cockpit, please stand by.” The hydraulics on the door’s hinges squealed.  
                He jumped at the person who pounced on the edge, using both sides of the opening to pull herself in.  
“Hey.” Liera clicked the side of her helmet, and laid her Sidewinder on the floor.  
                Something about the way she looked with blood splattered all over her face unsettled him. The rigidness in her motions made her unrecognizable, and there was something tortured behind her purple eyes that scanned him.  
“How are you feeling?”  
“Like I was thrown off a building and nearly drowned.” He groaned at the swelling in his lungs.  
“Sounds about right.”  She leaned over him, and balanced her elbow on his shoulder, “Chair is a little small for you, hm?”  
                She cupped his neck with one hand, and tugged the mask with the other.  He was relieved when it was pulled from the indents in his cheeks.  Her finger stretched the strap, adjusting it to its newfound slack.  
“Should fit a little better now.”  She gave him a sad smile, cracking a dark scab on her lip, “It’s okay, EV.  You can let him go, he’ll be alright.”  
                The harness and limb braces retracted, allowing Danse to adjust himself.  The hairs on his body raised from the cold wetness of his skin, and he hugged himself in a shiver.  
                Liera opened a cabinet under a dashboard, and pulled a white package from a container.  She opened it with her teeth, shaking out an aluminum sheet, “This is an emergency Mylar blanket.  It’s not warm and fuzzy, but it’ll help.”  
                He gave her a curt nod as she draped it over him, tucking it between his body and the chair.  A rainbow of lit buttons trickled on the ceiling, and he was lost to the trance that made his eyelids flutter.  
“Don’t fall asleep.”  
                His neck snapped up, and he watched her push the last bit of a syringe into her leg.  
“You have a concussion.  A nap could land you in a coma.”  
“I could use a vacation…”  
“Not funny.” Her eyebrows slanted, “Keep talking.  What do you remember?”  
                He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped when her arm sent sparks to the floor.  He watched it bleed electricity in remorse, “I was falling…I heard your grapple hit my Power Armor, saw you leap from a building through a cloud of fire and smoke just to…” He shook his head, “I woke up under water.  I saw you floating, thought you were dead…And then what happened to your arm…I…I’m sorry.  You didn’t have to…You shouldn’t have-“  
“Are you upset I came for you?”  
“No, I just…how do you thank someone for something like that?“  
“You don’t.  Now we’re even.”  
“That’s not how this-” He shuddered from the pain of his outburst.  
“…Not how this what?”  
                His nostrils flared in frustration, trying to breathe steady under pressure, “Do you remember the first life you took?”  
                She side-eyed him, “That’s a weird question…and a bit random.”  
“Bear with me.”  
                Liera gripped a handle overhead, and shifted her weight on one hip, “I mean, I don’t remember doing it, but…I could never forget the first person I killed.  Jack told me dad was never the same after it happened.” She frowned, “Carrying that around made it hard to get over.”  
“You don’t remember?”  
“My mom died giving birth to me.”  
                He regretted his question immediately, “Oh…I’m sorry.”  
“Yeah.  Anyway…Why do you ask?”  
“I was leading to a point…” He cringed at a sigh, “The first time I killed someone was to protect my best friend.  A raider tried to loot our salvage stand-”  
                His shoulder pushed against his ear as he released sore coughs from the strain of talking.  
“You shouldn’t-“  
“From that moment forward,” He cut her off, “I’ve done nothing but protect people…And it…” His chest heaved, “It feels wrong having someone protect _me._ ”  
                Liera shielded her eyes from the burnt sun reflecting off his silver blanket, “Well, get used to it.”  
“I’m a Paladin.  I can’t just ’get used to it.’”  
“I don’t care what rank you are.”  She snapped, “Out on the Frontier, we watch each other’s backs no matter what.  And you can call me selfish for saying this, but I’ve lost enough people I care about for one lifetime.”  Her lips tightened as she swallowed, “I wasn’t there to protect my family on Planet Typhon…So I’ll be damned if I don’t protect my family on Planet Earth.”  
                Her angry, yet caring words numbed him.  
**“Hey, uh…you guys on your way yet?”** Rhys asked over the radio channel.  
                Liera rolled her eyes, “I’m coming.  Paladin Danse is staying with EV.”  
**“Ooookay…I’ll just be down here, you know…Waiting.”  
                ** Danse pushed himself upright, and grit his teeth at his aching muscles.  Liera barred him with her healthy arm.  
“I’ll be fine.” He growled under his breath, “I need to go with you.”  
“Unless you want to be stuck on the _Prydwen_ for a week, you need to sit this one out.”  
“And what about you?” He nodded to her arm.  
“Fixing this thing will be a process, but if you think I made 47 jumps without a contingency plan for _everything,_ you don’t know me as well as I give you credit for.”  
                He bit his lip and scrunched his nose, ready to yell at her again.  His heart throbbed under his suit, a jolting reminder he’d almost died.  Danse exhaled, and his back collided with the seat, “Fine.”  
                She took a step backwards and tapped her helmet, “Besides, you’ll be with me every step of the way.”  
                The doors closed when she exited, and her helmet’s camera maximized in the right ocular panel.  
“Be careful…” He whispered, rubbing his chest again.  
**“I will.”  
                ** She winked at him, and the crinkle next to her eyes hinted a smile that lit him ablaze.  
_“This thing between us…It’s getting more complicated than anything Fort Strong could have to offer.”_

…

                Liera jogged around the Vertibird scrap sticking out from the ground.  
“EV, change camera to forward-facing.”  
“Affirmative, Pilot.”  
                A buzzing, rotating sound came from inside her helmet.  
**“The camera can move?”** Danse seemed nervous by the function.  
_“Yep, and it’s been watching all of you.”  
_ “Standard function for a Specialist.  We get all the expensive toys.”  
**“Do you record things like the Pilot in the holotape we found?”  
** “We’re supposed to record a lot of things.  They’re called Pilot’s Logs.  Makes life easier – less paperwork and no room to forget orders.” _  
_**“How many Brotherhood operations have you logged?”  
** “Danse…You should really stop talking until you’re checked out.”  
**“I’ll live.”**  
“You’re strolling through this like it doesn’t even matter.”  Essen interrupted them.  
                Liera froze in her tracks, turning to acknowledge the approaching footsteps.  
“Look at me when I’m talking to you, Initiate!”  A pull on her shoulder forced her to face the bloodied Knight who’d left her Power Armor behind, “And stop hiding behind that screen like a goddamn coward!”  
“I’m sorry about what happened-” She jumped as a pistol took aim at her.  
“Sorry isn’t good enough.” Essen’s hand rattled affront a face of uncertainty and sadness.  
                The surrounding soldiers looked at the conflict, leaving their duties behind to point their own guns, “Essen!  Stand down!”  
**“Drop your weapon immediately.”** Danse echoed from Liera’s helmet and the radio strapped to Essen’s hip, **“That’s an order.”**  
“I’m done taking orders from you for the sake of this…” Her lips curled, “Whatever she is.”  
**“Knight, your insubordination is intolerable.  I’m only going to tell you one more time.  Drop your damn weapon.”  
** “Why should I listen to you?  You’re inside that Titan, that fucking monstrosity-“  
                EV shifted behind her, and the ground shook under her steps.  
**“EV, don’t-“**  
“It’s okay, EV…Put the railgun away.”  
“Why not just let her kill me too?” Essen clicked the hammer on the gun, and a bullet rolled into the chamber.  
“Knight,” Liera raised her hands, “That missile was aimed at me, not you.  I had to move, I couldn’t hold that position.”  
“You’re a liar!”  
                Nora’s accusation of dishonesty burned in her ears.  
_“If anyone calls me a liar one more time…”_  
                She made her voice as sympathetic as she could, “Look, I didn’t mean-“  
“I don’t care what you _meant_.  That was half my squad in there…My _friends!_   They didn’t have Power Armor.  They didn’t survive that jump-“  
“Liz, you’re under a lot of stress, we all are.  But Lastimosa is one of us too.  You know the charges for betrayal.”  A suit of Power Armor tried to reason.  
“You weren’t there, Kagan.  You didn’t see her run away, you didn’t see-“  
“Put the gun down, Liz.  Come on.” Kagan kept trying. _  
_ “No.” Tears cut fresh lines in the grime on her skin, “She needs to be held accountable for what happened!”  
**“That’s for Elder Maxson to decide, not you.  This is treason.”**  
“Elder Maxson put us all at risk when he let her onboard the _Prydwen._ We should have just let her die.”  
“...Essen.” Liera’s voice was low and calm, “You need to think long and hard about the position you’re putting me in.”  
“I’ve had enough of your smug attitude.  You think you’re better than us, that we’re disposable?” She jabbed her pistol, and the rifles aimed at her pushed closer, “Wolfe was right about you.  You’re nothing but trouble, and we’re better off without-”  
                Liera grabbed the pistol’s barrel, pushing it upwards and away from her face.  She clamped Essen’s wrist and wound it towards her feet, ripping the weapon away.  With two lightning quick strikes, she punched her stomach with the stock and kneed her in the chest.  
“You should go back to the _Prydwen.”_ Liera popped the single bullet and let the magazine clip fall in her palm, “Cade can help you.”  
                She tossed the dismantled pistol to the nearest soldier.  The group of helmets and naked heads watched her as she walked away.  
“Don’t you fucking-“  
                The clanks and wrestling signaled that Essen was being restrained.  
“Lastimosa!” She roared, “LASTIMOSA!”  
                Liera closed her eyes, and shut the door to Fort Strong behind her.  
_“All too fucking familiar.”_

…

                The fort had seen better days.  It was musty, dirty, and the wood was half-eaten by insects that had more than a few genetic defects.  The camera aimed at Liera’s wrist, and she opened a cover on her right gauntlet.  A small computer lit up, and she poked around until a map appeared onscreen.  A blinking red dot labeled “Rhys” lowered to the bottommost layer of a 3D diagram of Fort Strong.  
**“EV, can you start scanning the lower levels of the fort?”  
** “Yes, Pilot.  Initiating typography scan…”  
                As Liera continued, her squeaking boots were visualized in soundwaves with statistics billowing out from each line.  She passed a row of rusted machines, humming under shields overgrown in rust.  
**“What was all that about?”** Rhys asked.  
**“Essen pulled a gun on me.”  
“Jesus…why would she do that?”  
“She blamed me for the downed Vertibird.”  
**                 Danse leaned back in the chair, “Don’t let what she said get to you.  That Vertibird should have retreated with the rest of them.”  
**“Thanks…I know.”  
                ** He rubbed his head, “I should have never ordered you to hold position.  You warned me this would happen.”  
**“It’s sad that they’re gone, but this isn’t anyone’s fault, Danse.  Collateral damage is inevitable when you’re trying to save the world.”  
** “Hmph…Ain’t that the truth…”  
                A shuffling noise came from her left, and she aimed her rifle at a closed door.  Orange lines penetrated the room, forming blueprints that traced the building all the way down to the ventilation ducts.  A mass of infrared heat signatures pooled in the middle, and Liera aimed at it.  
“Looks like a Ghoul.” Danse’s jaw tightened as he swallowed, “Stalkers like to ambush.”  
                Liera put her Hemlok behind her and armed herself with a pistol and knife.  The blade pointed downwards, and the hilt in her fist stabilized the gun’s grip.  She knocked her knuckles against the wall. _  
_                 The Ghoul busted through a screen, and her forearm pinned it by its neck.  She pushed the gun’s barrel in its mouth before it could bite her, and sliced her blade across it’s throat.  The camera was covered in a black spray.  Liera smudged the lens with her glove.  
**“Gross.”  
** “Yep.”  
                Liera pushed forward, following a marker placed by EV on her HUD, **“What does the Brotherhood know about Fort Strong?”**  
**“Some of the Pre-War docs we found mentioned it was used to research top-secret military weapons. Nora might know more about it.”** Rhys answered.  
**“Hah, right…because she’d help me.”  
“She won’t have a choice if she wants to stay with us.  We work together, not against each other.”**  
“Well put, Knight.” Danse huffed.  
_“I still don’t know why Maxson let’s her parade around the Commonwealth on our behalf…”_  
                Liera reached the end of the hall, and an elevator’s button crackled in the darkness.  
**“EV, give me some light.”  
                ** A blue flashlight streamed from her helmet, muting any other color it touched.  The glove she wore on her right hand glowed as it hovered over a keypad.  The lights that lined her knuckles blinked, and the door opened, **“Surprised this thing still works.”**  
“Must be attached to the generators you passed.”  
**“Those rust buckets were generators?”  
** “210 years will do that to a machine…”  
                Liera walked in and double-checked her 3D map.  She closed her computer and hit the button for the lowest floor, **“So, Rhys…Gonna tell me what I’m walking into yet?”  
“More like, I hope you can tell me what I’m looking at.”  
                ** The inner keypad flashed in sequential order as she descended.  The camera swirled at awkward angles.  Liera cracked her neck, waiting impatiently.  A small terminal asked for security clearance as the elevator came to a halt, **“Rhys, what’s the password?”  
“Persephone.”  
                ** She typed it out, and the terminal unlocked the door.  
**“How’d you figure that out?”  
“You don’t need a fancy data knife to hack _everything…”  
_ “Fair enough.”**  
EV’s dashboard flashed with reports she’d finished processing.  The string of 0’s and 1’s formed a diagram, twisting and gathering in the center. **  
** “Pilot, time anomaly detected.  Please proceed with caution.”

…

                Liera stepped out of the elevator and navigated through a series of halls that rattled from generators, all better maintained than the ones above ground.  
**“Time anomaly?”** Danse asked.  
“I’ve only seen a rift once.  It just means that someone, at some point, disrupted the flow of time down here.”  
**“How can you just talk about this shit like it’s normal?”**  
                Liera heard Rhys from around the corner, and not just the radio.  
“I’ve learned to accept that our definitions of ‘normal,’ are nothing alike.  You should too.”  
                The warehouse-sized room he waited in was lined wall to wall with miniature warheads, and a row of tables in the middle held the guns charged with launching them.  
“Holy shit.”  Her eyes widened at the amount of shells on the shelves.  
“Yeah, I know…but I wasn’t talking about the nukes.”  Rhys pointed to a door, and peeked out from behind his dormant Power Armor, “In order to disarm the bomb, I rerouted the fort’s power to dead sectors of the building…And then this door lit up like a Christmas tree.”  
“A what?”  
                He ran a hand down his face, “Just look at it, Liera...”  
                It was silver with show lights lining the frame.  A brand marked the center – a bold “E” surrounded by 12 stars.  What alarmed her more were the letters painted in red over it, dripping down as if written in blood.  They spelled “Prayer of the Refugee,” and an arrow pointed to a keypad pulsing in and out of green.  
                7 dashes marked the top, and a scramble of letters sat underneath.  She ran her hands over the small LED screen, searching for any slits for her data knife.  
_“Solid.  No points of entry.”_  
**“That’s the mark of the Enclave.”  
** “What’s that?”  
“Earth’s version of the IMC.” Rhys answered, “Bunch of evil bastards that perpetuated a global crisis until the bombs fell, and then tried to establish themselves as the government afterwards.”  
**“And they’re responsible for the release of the FEV…”  
** “Forced Evolutionary Virus.”  Rhys continued to explain, “They essentially created the Super Mutants through their sick experiments.  We’ll have to give you a history lesson later.”  He pointed to the door, “I don’t understand this message, and it’s bothering me.”  
                Liera’s brows tightened, and she opened her visor, “It’s a prayer we say in the SRS for those whose lives are lost fighting for our cause. This doesn’t make sense, though.  Not here…”  She ran her fingers across the letters, and rubbed her fingertips together in front of her nose.  
_“Paint.”_  
**“It’s in the manual under the Code of Conduct.”  
** “Yeah…I know.  I’ve read it once or twice.”  She snickered. **  
**                 An alert from EV popped up, “I’ve found a functioning microphone attached to the keypad.  A vocal entry may be required.”  
“Just say the prayer out loud.” Rhys shrugged, “Worth a shot.”  
“I’m not the best at reciting poetry.”  
**“Stage fright?”  
** “Real funny, Danse.”  She cleared her throat, and invoked the prayer:  
  
“We may fight with steel,  
But we do not rust,  
For we are vessels,  
Forged from stardust.

Thus when you die,  
And your blood runs dry,  
To the heavens we’ll aim,  
Our freedom cry...”

                The password auto-populated, spelling the word F-R-E-E-D-O-M.  The lock clicked, and the door eerily creaked open for a dark chamber illuminated with quick flashes.  They were the kind of flickers that reminded her of when Tai would fall asleep with the TV on, or the scenes in horror movies where someone walks in a room when they should’ve turned around.  
“Pilot be advised, this time rift is highly unstable.  Reconstruction initialized…” EV announced, “Surveying fragmented data.”  
**“What does that mean?”  
** “The rift is in there.  She’s trying to figure out what happened.  Once she does, she can show us.”  
**“How can she rebuild a scene from the past?”  
** “A quantum computer.  She’s a Titan, after all.”  
_“Not some tin-can Spectre…”_  
“So EV can figure out what caused it, no matter how long ago it was?”  Rhys asked.  
“Hopefully.  Keep your distance.” She shooed him away, “From the hard drive Brandis found to this, Earth sure does have a lot of holes punched in its timecard…”  
“Pilot, I am unable to reconstruct the data without a thorough examination of the material matter.  A physical sample is required.”  
“Well, that’s the end of that.”  Rhys put his hands on his hips, “Any ideas, space marine?”  
“A few.”  
                She swung the door open wider, and inhaled sharply as it hit the inner wall of the bunker. The right wall was lined with busted computer monitors with a large screen in between them.  Underneath, a console blipped and changed colors with hundreds of buttons linked to old tech.  In the middle of the room was a circular desk with chairs and microphones lining it.  
“What are we looking at?” Rhys asked from over her shoulder, “What _are_ those?”  
                Glints of fractured glass floated around like feathers hardened into mirrors, reflecting ripples in the lake of time.  They were without purpose, drifting through clouds of dust and changing direction sporadically without cause.  
“It’s…” Liera watched in wonder, “Time.”  
                Her tech glove’s joint markers changed to purple at each of her knuckles.  She opened her palm and forced it through the doorway, beckoning the dancing shards to her fingertips.  
**“What are you doing?!”**  
“I’m going in.”  
“Like Hell you are!” Rhys grabbed her arm, “There’s no way I’m letting you go in there.”  
“With all due respect…I’m not asking.”  She remained fixated on the rift that summoned her, challenging it to hide its secrets, “A time anomaly doesn’t just appear…it’s intentional – a message left by its precursor.  Judging by the fresh painting on the door, this one was clearly meant for me.” _  
_**“Then it could be a trap.”** **  
** “If they set a trap for a Pilot, a Titan can learn how to escape.  EV, turn off any power-saving functions and switch to advanced reconnaissance mode.”  
“Pilot, course of action reevaluation is recommended.”  
“There’s nothing to reevaluate.”  Liera pulled her arm from Rhys, “Protocol 2: Uphold the Mission.  Keep the radio open.  And Danse,” She stood at the door’s entrance, flexing her fingers and shaking her nerves from them, “If I don’t come back, make sure EV gets home.”  
**“Liera, don’t do this.”**  
                She lowered her head, and took her first step into the past, “I have to.”  
_“I’m the only one who can.”_

…

                A flurry of pixels built the scene, and the time-worn bunker transformed into a stark-white observation room.  A man was hunched over a console and working diligently.  A shorter woman was next to him, tapping away on the keyboard.  Liera held her breath, and quickly ducked behind the circular desk in the middle of the tiled floor.  She turned off the backlight of her visor, and felt the sweat drip down her nose.  
“Liera?”  EV wrote.  
                As quietly as she could, she responded on her wrist computer, “I’m here.”  
“I am glad.  I have opened a new Pilot’s Log.  Recorded data will be stored in the Archive.  Warning: Any influence in the rift will shift the attached timeline.  Evaluating exit strategy…”  
“I sent another e-mail…Hopefully it gets to him in time.  Thanks for letting me use your terminal.”  
                Liera jumped at the woman’s voice.  She peaked out from the curved edge of her cover.  
_“That’s Nora…Who’s she talking to?”_  
“Don’t make a habit out of this.  If you and your mother cannot run the pharmaceutical department, I will find more qualified individuals who can.”  
                Nora’s shoulders hung, “You know how Dr. Abbey is about women in the work place…He finds us unfit for the position.”  
“It’s not women he finds unfit, it’s incompetence.  Him and Evelyn worked quite well together in R &D.”  He straightened his back, and studied one of the large screens above him, “Your sister’s mind…it’s brilliant.  Surely it could not have been seduced by the untamed environments of the Frontier.  We _must_ bring her home.”  
_“Evelyn, her sister…My mom? This couldn’t have been that long ago, then…Right?”_  
“Father, it’s been 4 years.  She’s not coming back.”  
“Do not spew your doubt here, girl.” He pointed a finger at her, “Time and time again, I have given you opportunities to make a difference in this company.  Even after I arranged your marriage to Garrison’s son, you’ve failed to deliver me an heir.”  
“I’ve been pregnant twice, now.  It’s not my fault you weren’t pleased with a granddaughter.”  
“You chose to terminate both pregnancies, not me…” He sighed, and put his hands on her shoulders, “I know this is hard for you, Nora, but without a grandson I will be forced to hand this corporation to Nathan after I pass.  I will not have a member outside of this family run my company…and I will not leave my eldest daughter to the mercy of the Frontier.”  
_“’Eldest daughter?’  Is that man_ the _Dr. Hammond?  If it is, that means I’m at least 200 years in the past…but how?  Tai told me-“_  
“But you’d forget your youngest?  Have me breed like some goddamn livestock?” Nora yelled.  
                Hammond smacked her across the mouth, and her face whipped towards Liera.  
                She returned to the back of the desk, no longer peeking around the curved edge.  
“My youngest that clearly does not know her place.  Now, go back to the Infirmary where you’re useful.  I’ve heard enough of your ungratefulness.”  
_“If this man is the founder of the IMC, I could kill him now.  I could stop everything, I could-“_  
                The room darkened, and an emergency generator notification came across a screen to Liera’s left.  The space was filled with red cones of light coming from uncovered LEDs on the ceiling.  Footsteps came close to her, and paused on the other side of her cover.  
_“Shit.”_  
“What is the meaning of this?  Susan, hello?” Hammond pressed a button, “Anyone?”  
“Incoming message from ARES facility on Planet Typhon.”  A female AI announced, “User: Unknown.”  
_“ARES…on Planet Typon?!”_  
                A hologram casted shadows against the wall, and Liera looked upwards.  An outline of a Pilot on one knee was built by projectors on the round desk’s surface, but she could only see his backside.  
“This telecommunication’s terminal is private!  Identify yourself at once!” Hammond shouted.  
“My name is Eli Anderson.  I come to you from the future, and I beg you for peace.”  He buckled, holding his chest, “Hammond, you will lose the Titan Wars.  Demeter will fall.  The IMC will be scattered.  You will fail.  Please…just leave us alone.  We can avoid…so…much…bloodshed…”  
                Anderson collapsed, and the projection ceased.  The lights in the room returned to normal, and the two Hammonds were silent.  
_“That was Major Anderson…did he just die?  What the fuck is going on?”_  
“What…was that?”  
“Something that shouldn’t be possible…” Hammond stormed away, “There is no time for questions.  Tell Nathan to aim the satellites at the Colonies and have him report his findings to me immediately.”  
“Very well…”  
“Dr. Hammond, are you alright?  The power outage was centralized at your location.”  A woman asked from a speaker.  
“Yes, yes, I’m okay.  Susan, tell Garrison to stop playing with robots and get him on the line.”  
“I will dial him immediately, Doctor.”  
                A ringing came from the console.  
                He began typing furiously, and Liera saw Nora walk towards a second door.  She slid a keycard through a slot, and disappeared down a hallway.  
_“He’s right on top of me…Can’t follow her.”  
_ “This is Dr. Black.”  Another projection paced above her, “Ah, Eric.  How have you been?”  
“What is the status of the excavation project on Typhon?”  
“Always straight to business, as usual…” He slurped a drink, “After a recent attack, we were forced to put Marder in a cryopod.  However, the new General has made some progress.  He’s uncovered the power source, something he’s named the Ark.  We are still excavating the rest of the artifact in the mountains.  It is quite large.”  
“I’ve had no reports of a ‘recent attack.’” Hammond growled, “Was it another colonist?”  
“No, it was internal…My apologies, Dr. Hammond.  I wanted to report it only after the issue was resolved.  It is…a sensitive case.”  
“You will tell me what happened at once.  I will not provide funding for your projects only to have information withheld.”  
“I understand your frustration.”  Black continued to pace in front of his desk with an arm folded behind his back, “Your daughter and a group of other colonists hijacked a carrier in transit from Demeter.  They secured 3 cryopods and their corresponding servers.  We have yet to locate them, but we have leads indicating they are hiding in the Freeport System close to Planet Harmony.”  
_“When I found mom’s old IMC lab on Harmony’s moon, there were cryopods all over the place.  Nothing indicated that she’d been in one of them...but I don’t know how else this would be possible.”_  
“That means…” Hammond shuffled out of Liera’s view, “That means she’s alive.”  
“Yes, sir.  I’d only wished to notify you once we secured her capture.”  
“Capture? Surely she is being held prisoner by those heathens, forced to-“  
“If she is innocent, we will hold no crimes against her.  Until then, she remains a suspect.  We must do this for the security of our project, Eric.  I am sorry.”  
                The news silenced him, and Liera heard the smack of Eric’s lips farther away.  
“Very well.”  
“Is there anything else I can do for you today, Dr. Hammond?”  
“Your reports of lapses in time, the ones involving the artifact…have you encountered anyone by the name of Eli Anderson?”  
“No.  Only glimpses into the past from those who came before.”  
“Ah.  Well, it seems he has found a way to manipulate its power.  I received a warning today from the… _future_ …and he sent it from Typhon.  He said that ‘Demeter will fall,’ and the ‘IMC will be scattered.’”  
_“You left out the bit about losing the Titan Wars there, bud.”_  
“That is…most disturbing.”  Dr. Black seemed distraught.  
“Have you provoked any colonies lately?”  
“I’ve had my men maintain a strict path from Demeter to Typhon to prevent the discovery of the Reclamation Facility.  All of our resources and manpower have been dedicated to the excavation.”  
“I see…” Hammond walked back to the console, “I’ve ordered Nathan to turn the telescopes to the Colonies.  This man…Eli…he hints to something we may find valuable, and I want to know what it is.”  
“…I understand.  Perhaps we should heed his warning, however.”  
“Or we should use it to double our efforts in taking what they have.  That is why I’ve reached out to you today.”  
“You want the Titans.”  
“I do.  Are they ready?”  
“Only 3 models have passed the prototype stage, but yes…They are ready.”  
_“Atlas, Stryder, Ogre…the 3 original Titan chassis…Is that what he’s talking about?”_  
“Excellent.  Please join me at Fort Strong immediately.  I will be contacting the highest members of the Enclave for a meeting, and I wish for you to be at my side when I do.”

…

                The room imploded, and the air was knocked out of Liera’s lungs.  Her eyes fluttered, and the bunker was pitch black.  
_“What happened?  Where am I?”_  
“Pilot!”  EV took control of her helmet, igniting its backlight, “On your feet!”  
                Gargling and skitters flowed across the metal walls, and she stood in a daze.  
**“In front of you!”** Danse cried.  
                Three pairs of yellow eyes stormed towards her through the black.  A Ghoul launched itself and she was pinned against the wall.  
                It’s slimy teeth gnawed on her helmet, and its claws dug into her vest.  She screamed in terror and squeezed her knee between her and the undead monster.  She kicked it with full force, and the soaring Ghoul broke in half over the console that had projected Anderson.  
                She ducked as another one pounced, and fumbled to get her Hemlok in her hands.  Firing aimlessly, the bullets hit the ground before trailing up its body.  The third Ghoul leapt in the air, and Liera made a fist with her metal arm.  
                Her jump kit pushed her forward, and her shoulder set her target flying.  Strings of slime broke in the air. Liera’s grapple traced them and hooked the demon.  She yanked it back towards her and kicked straight through its face.  The contents of its head clung to her boot laces, and the topless corpse rolled between her legs.  
                Her entire body shook, and warm tears left her.  She unloaded the empty Hemlok clip to the floor, dropping the new one retrieved from her pouch.  
**“Liera, your heart rate-“  
** “I-I’m f-fine.” Her fingers twitched around the now blood-covered clip, pinching it out of the black pool.  
                The end danced around the Hemlok’s slot as she kept missing.  She closed her eyes and inhaled through her mouth, and out through her nose.  The clip finally slid in the weapon, and she pulled the hammer to load it.  
“Pilot, there are more hostiles underneath you.  Please exit the room.”  
                Liera trembled, and turned to the entrance that was now locked.  She bit her lip, and looked behind her from where the Ghouls charged. A gaping doorway shined in her flashlight’s stream.  It led to a hall marked by a single red light, casting sinister shadows over the mold spores carpeting the floor.  
“T-that’s…That’s where Nora went.” She swallowed her fear, and did her best to get her nerves in check.  
**“Don’t you dare-“  
**                 Liera took a step forward, and aimed her rifle in front of her.  
**“Liera!”  
** “I h-have to-“  She sniffed, “Keep going.”  
_“Calm down.  You’re okay.  You’re okay.”  
_                 She squeezed her eyes shut for a brief moment to clear her head, “EV, tag all hostiles.”  
“Pilot, this is a direct violation of Protocol 3, as I cannot follow you.”  
“Then help me find the rest of those fuckers.”  
                She jumped at a noise to her right, and saw a rat scurrying away.  
_“Get a grip, Pilot.”  
_ “…Tagging all hostiles.”  
                A sonar pulse highlighted six Ghouls, shifting in their quarters on each side of the tunnel.  The closest one was dormant, lying on the floor in the first room to her left.  
_“Alright, here we go.”  
_                 She clicked her cloaking device, and kicked the door open.  Her Hemlok buried three bullets in its head as it squirmed, and she pressed her back to the corner facing the door.  
                Another Ghoul charged at her with a broken neck bobbing wildly.  A quick burst of well-placed fire dropped it, and the four that followed.  
                She shook her head, angered by the headache that pumped her brain.  Liera checked both ends of the hall with her gun before exiting, and continued on.  
**“You’re insane.”** Danse scolded.  
“Incoming message from the _Prydwen._ ”  EV interrupted, “Patching in.”  
                Liera traversed down a flight of stairs, fearful of what lay beyond the edges of her flashlight’s cone.  
**“Any of you want to tell me what the _hell_ is going on down there?”  
                ** No one answered the man, and he yelled at them in response.  
**“Paladin!”**  
**“Mission success.”** Danse muttered.  
**“Now, that’s what I like to hear.  I’ve already sent a Scribe team and a medical evac.  Your orders are to hightail it to the _Prydwen_ and report to Maxson tomorrow morning. Great job out there, Gladius. Enjoy the afternoon off.  See you onboard.  Kells out.”  
                **Liera entered a large, circular room with more hallways connected to it, “He didn’t sound happy.”  
**“That’s Captain Kells…He’s never happy.”  
** “Either way, you should meet with Cade and get my treatment verified as soon as possible.” **  
“I’m not going anywhere until you’re topside.”  
** “Suit yourself.” **  
**                 EV highlighted the northern corridor on Liera’s HUD, “There is a terminal connected to the Revere Satellite Array at the end of this tunnel.  There is also another rift, should you further choose to ignore my suggestion of retreat.”  
“Thanks, EV...”  
                Despite the lack of hostiles on her HUD, Liera kept her finger on the trigger.  
**“I’m siding with EV on this, just for the record.”**  
“Gonna punish me?”  
**“I…Well- Yes, actually.  Yes I will.”  
** “So long as you’re the one doing it, I think I can live with that.”  
**“That joke was…unprofessional.”  
** “What?” Liera stopped, “Oh, Jesus Christ, that’s not what I meant-“  
**“Uh-huh.”  
** “Are you messing with me?” **  
**                 Her face felt hot as she stopped in front of another cloud of particles, “Uhm, EV…what’s the risk assessment with this one?”  
“Extraordinary.”  
“Give me a number, smart ass…”  
“150% recommended immediate evacuation.”  
                She rolled her eyes, “Why are you being so difficult?”  
**“If that’s not the pot calling the kettle black, I have no idea what is.”**  
“The pot…kettle…what?” Liera looked to the side, “What in the hell are you going on about?”  
“I, too, do not understand the reference.” EV agreed.  
**“Nothing, just…you’re being a hypocrite.”  
** “Oh...” Liera put her gun away, and toggled her cloaking device again, “I know.”  
                She spotted a pillar in the room and crouched.  
_“Hope they aren’t standing there on the other side.”_  
                Liera rolled into the second rift, and hid herself before the glints of broken time sucked her in.

…

                 
                A dark-haired man sat before a console with his back facing Liera’s cover.  The wall above him was a huge, curved screen with live feeds of the universe filling every corner.  Nora stood behind him with a cigarette in her hand, watching the topmost camera.  
“How long will it take to turn the telescope?” She asked.  
“15 minutes, tops.  The signal booster we installed cut the time in half…Are you okay?” He looked at her over his shoulder, “What happened to your face?”  
_“His voice…”  
_ “What do you think?”  She put her cigarette out in an ashtray and blew a puff of smoke, “First comes the guilt trip, then the temper tantrum.”  
“I told him to stop putting his hands on you.” He shot up, “I told him I’d beat his old ass the next time he-“  
“Nathan, it’s fine.  I’ve been dealing with this since I was a child, it’s nothing new.” She pushed him down by his shoulders, “Once we have a son, he’ll cool off.”  
_“Nathan, her husband.  The Pilot.  She mentioned him once.”_  
“This is just…”  He shook his head and clicked on his terminal, “I’m e-mailing my father.  He’ll have a word or two for Eric.”  
“Garrison has been kind to me, and I have no doubt he’d come to my aid…but I don’t want him involved.” She put her hand on his, and pulled it from the mouse, “I just want this to stop.  I want to make him happy, I want him to be proud of me.”  
“You shouldn’t have to birth a damn child for that.  You’re one of the most accomplished medical personnel in this building, second only to your mother.”  
“Yes, well…A great many of things should be one way, and yet we find them another.”  She eyed him critically, “Have you been taking your pills?”  
                He scowled and dropped her hand, “No.  I don’t need any pills, there’s nothing wrong with me.”  
“Not being able to hold an erection for more than a few seconds is far from the norm.” Nora crossed her arms, “I can’t do this by myself.  I need your help.”  
_“Awkward…”_  
“It’s…It’s not that easy, Nora.” He wheeled his chair closer and grabbed her waist, “I know you’re not happy.  I know you’re only with me because your father made you.  I know you don’t _love_ me.”  
“And _I_ know that’s not the whole problem.” She grabbed his tie, and began unraveling it.  
_“Uhm…”  
_ “You loved her, and she’s gone.  You ended up with the wrong Hammond daughter.” The tie broke free of his neck, and hung between her fingers, “You called her your best friend, but I’m not as blind as my father paints me to be.”  
                Nora circled him, and dropped the tie around his eyes.  
“What are you doing?”  
“Solving the whole problem.”  She secured a knot against the back of his head, and slid her hands down his chest, “I’ve been told we sound identical.  Do we?”  
“Nora…Please stop.”  
                She kissed behind his ear, then his jaw, and slipped down to his neck, “That’s not my name…Not right now.”  
                Her fingers curled below his waist, and he grabbed her wrist, “I said stop.”  
“Why, Nate?”  
“Don’t call me that…”  
                She turned the chair with her free hand, and worked on his belt.  Her head disappeared between his knees, “Let me give you what you want.”  
_“Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have gone into this rift.”  
_                 Liera pulled her head from the corner, and pushed her back to the pillar.  The sounds of sucking lips and soft growls made her uncomfortable.  
_“Yeah…really shouldn’t have.”  
_                 A metal clank hit the floor, and fabric shifted after it.  
“Nate…”  
                The leather cushions of the chair squealed, and Liera cringed.  
_“If he’s thinking about who I think he is…”  
_                 She clutched her stomach.  
_“Just…ew.”  
                _ Nora yelped in alarm, and the chair rolled across the tiles.  Liera peeked again, concerned for her safety.  
                Nathan’s slacks were pooled around his ankles.  He bent Nora over the console and lifted her sweater dress, tearing a hole in her nylons with a set of longing hands.  Still blindfolded, he grabbed Nora’s hips and pulled them closer, arching his neck to the ceiling.  
                Liera retreated, and covered the microphones on either side of her helmet.  
_“Great…just-“  
_                 Nora moaned, and the slapping of flesh on flesh filled the room.  
_“I really did not need to see or hear this.”  
_                 She looked at the door, and saw a red line across the top of the keypad that read, “Locked.”  
_“Goddamn it.”  
_ “Harder.  Fuck me harder, Nate.”  
                The intensity of their affair heated, and the noises that followed were louder.  Liera felt her face heating up, and she gulped.  
_“I can only imagine the look on Danse’s face right now…”  
_                 Danse, the model soldier who lived and breathed the military life, and dedicated every atom of his body to the Brotherhood.  The body that was the tallest she’d ever seen, with scars that told stories of the battles it endured.  The scars that decorated his face and curved around his eyes when he smiled, just like he had when she woke up in his arms.  That morning when she heard him whisper soothing encouragements, watching over her in her time of need.  Words that spilled from the same lips that she now knew how they tasted, and how they felt against hers.  
_“Stop, stop, stop-“  
_                 The slapping ceased, and Nathan heaved breaths, “Give me…a minute-“  
“Sit,” Nora panted, “In the chair…”  
                Wheels rolled forward, and cushions deflated under their weight.  The shifting of bodies was loud, and another article of clothing hit the floor.  
“I’ve missed you,” Nathan whispered, “So much.”  
                Liera did all she could to get the images out of her head.  How Danse felt in her hands when she was sure he’d been lost. The desperation she forced into him when he lay there, dying.  The loudness of his heart as it came back to life, and the surge of yearning that hadn’t gone away since.  
_“Bad thoughts.  Think bad thoughts…like, yeah, Nathan is imagining fucking your mom right now.”  
_                 And then everything went numb.  
_“Because somehow, Major Anderson contacted her father…and somehow, your mom was actually this bitch’s sister…and somehow, they were both born over 200 years ago."  
_                 A notification blipped on her visor.  It was a spike in the audio, and the squiggling line jumped again.  
_“Fuck my life.”  
_                 She leaned around the corner, and did her best to ignore the naked body bouncing on top of another naked waist.  Nathan’s head was on Nora’s shoulder, holding the small of her waist against his.  Her hips worked on him while her arm reached around the back of the chair, and her obnoxious moaning muted the clicks of the mouse under her hand.  
                The satellite in a far-right screen started moving, and her hand jerked to the armrest as Nathan grabbed her hips and pushed her down on him.  His teeth grit, his neck slammed backwards, and his hand fell lower to support deeper thrusts.  He repeated the motion one last time before his back arched, and he relaxed.  
                He sat in the chair with his red cheeks and gasping lips.  Nora began to stand, and Liera grimaced as he slipped out of her, pulling his tie from his face.  
_“Jesus fucking Christ…Out of all my years of recon...”  
_                 Nathan’s belt jingled as he pulled his pants up, “I’m…”  
“You don’t need to say anything.”  
“It’s-“  
“Nathan.  It’s fine, really.  Hook this for me?”  
                The metal hooks of her bra locked into place while Liera’s mind still reeled.  
_“Maybe I do need to lay off the Stim.”  
_ “Make sure you send your findings to father.  Garrison is on his way from CIT.  I’m sure he’ll want to review them before he arrives.”  
“S-sure…” Nathan stuttered, and the chair grinded as he turned, “What is…What is this?”  
“What is what?”  Nora pulled her dress down her slender body while she looked at the screen she’d tampered with.  
“…I didn’t turn this satellite.  It’s a smaller one, but…it must have picked up something on its own.”  He leaned in closer.  
“What planet is that?”  
“Crius-3, the first planet we colonized.” He zoomed in farther.  
                The blurry picture cleared one pixel at a time, diving into the planet’s atmosphere.  
_“Shit…_ ”  
                The telescope focused on a cluster of large structures, complete with freeways and lights.  
_“That’s Angel City!  How did she know that was there?!”  
_                 Nathan took the tie from around his neck, and tossed it on the floor.  He jammed a holotape into the terminal and began typing away, “I need to get this to Eric as soon as possible.  Look at the size of this city…Those colonists did something _amazing._ ”  There was a new level of excitement under his ragged breath, “How could they build such a place on a planet like that?”  
                Nora put her hands on her hips, “I have no idea…”  
_“She sounds…sad.”  
_                 She patted him on the shoulder, and her hand slid down his back as she walked away, “You sound a lot like her, you know.  I can’t imagine how you two reacted when you set foot on the Frontier for the first time.”  
“Nora…” He reached out for her arm, but she dodged him, “I’m sorry.  You deserve so much better than this.”  
“Don’t be.” She pulled a keycard out of the front pocket of her dress, “Just get these upstairs as soon as you can.  I’ll warn my father.”  
                She went to slide the card across the lock, and the light turned green.  
“Oh, two more things before I leave.” She turned to him.  
“Yes?” He asked, strained.  
“Vault-Tec stopped by while you were at CIT yesterday.  I signed the papers for Vault 111…just as a precaution.  They should be finished building it by next October.”  
“Ah, that’s right…I forgot they were sending out a representative.  Thank you.” He rubbed the back of his neck, “And the other…’thing?’”  
“I…I know I don’t really show it a lot, but…I did love you.  Part of me still does.  I’m sorry I’m not…”  Her voice cracked, “I’m sorry I’m not Evelyn.”  
                Nathan’s hand fell, and his mortified expression was visible even from where Liera watched.  
_“Damn…”  
                _ Nora wiped her cheek with the back of her hand, and walked through the door.  It shut, and Nathan plopped in his seat.  He rested his arm on the dashboard and bit his knuckles.  
                His sobbing was the last thing Liera heard before the rift bent back into place.

…

                Dust twirled above her in the bright light of the control room.  A ceiling fan turned lazily around a string dangling from the middle of three bulbs.  
**“…You still there?”  
**                 Liera sat up and took her helmet off.  Her head was pounding, and she rubbed her temples.  
“Forever scarred, but yeah.  I’m here.”  
**“Let’s not talk about _that_ …You weren’t answering when you came back.  I was worried.”  
**“Was I out for long?”  
**“No, just a minute.  But I’m not accustomed to how…time travel…effects people.”  
** “You and me both.”  She looked around, “Who turned on the lights?”  
**“EV is working on it.  They were on when you came back.”  
** “Weird.”  
                Liera rolled her shoulders, and put her helmet back on.  
**“Looks like she found something-“**  
“Evacuate.  Evacuate!” EV repeated, “Pilot, immediate-“  
“Yeah, yeah, you want me to leave…” She yawned, and closed her visor.  
                A swarm of Ghouls was painted by a blob of charging heat signatures.  
“Holy fucking-fuck-“  
**“MOVE!”**  
                She pushed herself to her feet, and her jump kit coughed as she ran.  
“It was just working!”  
                It propelled her to reach a fast enough pace to skip a  few steps at a time, and she raced the charging army to the center of the hallways.  They were closing in from the previously unexplored tunnels by the hundreds.  
                She spun in circles, trying to figure out which door she came out of.  
“Fuck-fuck-fuck-“  
                She ran towards the corridor without any enemies clogging it.  
_“This has to be it!”  
_                 The collision of bodies rumbled the walls, and she heard the terrifying screams of the Ghouls that chased her.  
“Come on, come on!”  
                Liera banged on her jump kit as she ran, making the mistake of looking behind her.  A wave of undead creatures barreled under twitching lights, and they were gaining ground.  
_“Fuck they’re fast!”  
_                 Her throat pulsed against her shemagh, and she focused on the door leading to the observation room.  Liera’s shaking hands fumbled with a gravity star on her belt.  
“Pilot, a gravity star could cause the tunnels to collapse, thus compromising the warheads.  Please shut the door behind you.”  
                A button on the other side of the wall was highlighted on her HUD.  
“UGH!”  
                Liera pushed her arms harder, and slung her Hemlok to her front.  She jumped through the door, hitting the latch as she passed it.  Her body twisted in the air, and she took fire at the Ghouls leaping at her.  
                Her back slid against the ground being pushed by the stuttering jump kit.  The reinforced door slammed shut, and she shot at the body floating above her.  Her head hit the wall and opened her visor by mistake. The breath was knocked out of her as the porous Ghoul landed on her chest.  
“Gah, fucking disgusting, bleh!” She pushed it off and spat, wiping her mouth vigorously, “Guh- I’m covered-“ She desperately looked around for something to wipe her mouth on, and pulled the underside of her vest to her lips.  
                The wound on her forehead burned and made her eyes water.  
“I’m so done with today.”  
**“That did _not_ look pleasant.”  
** “No shit.”  She growled, slinging black blood from her jumpsuit with her hands, “Fuck, is this an organ?”  
                She lifted a hunk of meat stuck on her data knife’s handle, “I quit.  I’m done.  The Militia can find a new Combat Intel Specialist.”  
Danse laughed, **“I don’t think it works like that.”**  
                The thunder of bodies colliding with the door boomed.  
_“Fuck you, assholes.”_  
                She pushed against her knee to stand, and studied the holographic globe in the center of the room.  
“Well, this wasn’t here before…”  
                She walked up to it, and flipped her data knife in her hand.  She wiped it along the edge of the table, squeegeeing blood from its blade. It dug deep into a holotape slot, and the blue hologram turned red.  
“Great.”  
                A chime came from the console behind her, and a strange icon maximized on the screen.  It was of swirls and holes that connected at the bottom, like a butterfly without a body.  A blinking cursor underneath it started moving, typing the words, _“Loading audio file…100% completed.  Playing ‘Operation: Persephone,’ speech; October 21 st, 2077.”  
_**“Liera, get out of there.  I don’t like this.”  
** “Not yet. Someone’s trying to tell me something.” _  
_ A speaker scared her as it powered on, and she almost shot the ceiling.

…

  
“I have gathered you all here today to discuss one word:  Scarcity.  It is the condition in which our wants are greater than the resources available to satisfy them.  This state of being is the root of the Core Systems Conflicts, a war fought in stock markets and import exchanges.

In a world of critically limited resources, we must choose which of our citizens’ wants will be satisfied and which will go unfulfilled.  For years, price has served as a rationing device -  a means of deciding who gets what of these available resources.  However, there is no price on human life, which is, inexorably, America’s most abundant resource.

Many of you have come to me with concerns on securing that resource, and how to survive the impending nuclear war our country faces.  I assure you that the survival of the United States has been our utmost priority…But first, we review our history - the foundation laid for our future.  I will now play a clip of news coverage broadcasted 10 years ago:

 _“After many decades of setbacks, scientists have discovered a way to fold space and time.”  
  
_ There was global celebration after Kyle Williams made the announcement of our technological advancements.  This was perpetuated when Julia Lycans revealed the Outer Colonies; the IMC-controlled settlements founded on planets within the very sector the Collective originally denied Earth’s request to explore:

_“Deep space explorers have discovered a dense zone of habitable planets, and everyone’s calling it a new Frontier.  Dr. Hammond, now, as I understand it, the IMC’s refueling facility here at Demeter is vital for travel between the Core and the Frontier.”_

Not long after I concluded this interview, the Core Systems came begging for resources with their tails between their legs.  After the decision was made to deny them, they blamed the systems-wide resource shortage on Earth - on the construction of the Interstellar Manufacturing Corporation and its fleets.

As many of you recall, Earth’s secession from the Core Systems Collective shortly followed.  In combination with our independence and newly colonized Frontier, we were provided a monopoly over abundant, yet hard to attain, materials.  However, it’s also known that our expedition hurt us greatly, and due to the inhospitable conditions of the Frontier’s planets, we drained our reserves in a vain attempt to continue mining of any kind.

We called the IMC’s withdrawal and have been home for 4 years now, gentlemen.  And even though the United States has made great strides with integration of nuclear energy into our infrastructure, other countries have become dangerously envious.  The situation on Earth, as a whole, is not improving.  This threatens our most valuable resource, which as I previously stated, is human life.  
  
In collaboration with my dear friend, Garrison Black, the current President of the Commonwealth Institute of Technology, I am pleased to announce that Hammond Engineering has found a solution.  We call them Titans.  Yes, yes, they are quite impressive…but before we dive into the blueprints and operations of the Titans, I present to you all an image taken from one of our interstellar telescopes.  It is of a civilization built upon one of our abandoned, yet colonized worlds.

We do not know how the settlers that remained managed to tame the lands of the Frontier.  We do not know how they were able to take advantage, to the full extent, of the planets’ resources, or how they managed to construct this metropolis in record time.  But you can see that this city outmatches any of our own, and the IMC holds rights to that land by law.  If the Enclave will allow it, we will use Demeter to launch a military reclamation campaign to outer space, allowing the IMC to secure the future for not only Earth by ending this scarcity crisis, but also the future of mankind.”

…

“Pilot, anti-virus protection measures have blocked all viable data.  Quarantining download for file deletion.”  
“Wonderful.”  Liera removed the data knife, and jabbed it in its holster.  
              An alert blinked on her screen, “WARNING! WARNING! RADIO BR…CH FRE…NCY…” EV faded in and out of white noise.  
**“We haven’t met, but if you’re half the specialist your father is, we will soon enough.  Go to Vault 111…We Remember, Pilot.”**  
                The room returned to silence, and her visor went blank. A small holotape ejected from the main console.  
_“Did that dickhead just hack EV’s channel?”_  
“EV, run voice recognition.” Liera growled and plucked the holotape from its slot. _  
_ “Voice check cross-analyzed with previous recording, time rift Pilot’s Log, and most recent broadcast confirms that the Pilot in question is Nathan Black.”  
                Liera wiped the holotape’s label clean, reading the ink sprawled across a dotted line: “Pilot’s Log 134 – Blacklist.”  
_“My logs weren’t blacklisted…That’s his damn callsign.  Someone in the SRS tagged them.”  
_ “This is one of Nathan’s logs.”  Her fingers tightened around the edges, “Danse, what’s todays date on Earth?”  
**“September 4 th, 2287.”**  
“That speech was recorded in 2077.  How could Nathan still be alive?  How is _Nora_ alive?”  
**“She woke up from cryosleep in Vault 111.  She went under right before the bombs fell.”** Danse grunted, **“Maybe Nathan did the same thing.”  
** “Cryosleep…that’s some heavy-duty shit.”  
_“Looks like Evelyn partook in it, too…”_ _  
_                 It took all she had to not launch the fragile holotape across the room.  
**“He said, ‘We Remember…’”  
**                 Liera snapped her fingers, “Which means if he _did_ go into cryosleep, he had to have woken up within the past 30 years.  The SRS wasn’t formed until after the Titan Wars.  But still, I’ve never heard of him.”  
**“In the recording, Nora mentioned her sister…Evelyn.  Do you know _that_ name?”  
**_“Don’t make me lie to you…”  
_ The door opened, and Rhys came barreling through, “Lastim-“  He froze, “Hot damn, what happened here?”  
                The growling and snarls vibrated from behind the other door.  
“Uh…Explain?” He backed away.  
“You didn’t hear any of that?”  
“Any of what?  I haven’t heard anything from anyone since you went into the, uh…rift…which is gone now, I see.” **  
****“Must have been a technical malfunction.  Initiate, topside.  Now.”  
**_“He’s lying to Rhys?”_ **  
** “Yeah…” Rhys nodded, “Go on.  I’ll watch the warheads and make sure the Scribes don’t blow themselves up.  You’re covered in Ghoul and Mutant blood – should probably get that off you.”  
“Probably…” Liera gulped, “Alright.”  
                She turned around, and left the bunker.  
_“This is where it all began…The 210-year-long fight for freedom.  And Anderson tried to prevent it...or did he cause it?"_  
                 New life bled into each of her brain cells, pushing the scabs that had grown around them into oblivion.  She started to feel her innate curiosity, the feeling that motivated her in all the years she’d been alive.  She had to know more, had to put this puzzle together.  
_“Mom…what were you hiding from?  What does the SRS not want everyone to know?”_


	20. BT-7274

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"I always wanted to be a Pilot…But not like this._  
>  _Dad is KIA. The James MacAllan has been shot down. What’s left of the 9th Militia Fleet is scattered in lifeboats, crash-landing all over Typhon. Maybe some of the capital ships escaped...I have no way of knowing for sure._  
>  _This is enemy occupied territory. The IMC will be looking for all of us..._  
>  _And **I'll** be looking for **them**."_  
>  -Jack Cooper's Logbook

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The segment where Jack reflects on his past experiences was taken from his previous chapter and put in this one. I received feedback that it broke the flow of his landing. I apologize if you're reading it for a second time.

* * *

* * *

 

                 palm-sized boulder rolled down a pile of its brethren.  Its clicks matched the ticking on Jack’s watch, counting down the seconds till it hit the ground.  He reached for it, plugging the last hole in Tai’s makeshift grave – a mound of stones that marked the death of one of the greatest men the universe would ever know.  
                Jack didn’t make time for sadness as he watched his lifeless neck roll in his hands.  He didn’t make time to question himself when he stripped the corpse of armor.  He didn’t make time to feel remorse when he secured the straps against himself, stained and soggy from his father’s blood.  
                Still, he made time to bury his old man, because Tai deserved a proper burial.  He deserved to be alive.  But Jack knew he could only make one of those two things happen. _  
_                 He sat on his heels and looked at his hands.  
_“These gloves were never meant to be mine. None of this was...”  
_                 Tai’s Pilot helmet sat in a patch of leaves with its light muted.  
_“You let him die.”  
_                 The curved visor was angry- a slanted brow cursing him for failing its owner.  He’d seen many helmets like it, but this one…  
_“This was never meant to be anyone else’s.”  
_                 Jack picked it up and plopped it in his lap.  Three stick figures were etched on the back with a boxy engraving of a Titan behind them.  It was something Liera had done as a kid.  
_“Dad was so mad at first…”_  
                He swallowed his tears and lifted it above his head, his arms threatening to slack.  The dirtied, fabric cuff stopped just above his hairline. _  
_**“ _This_ is the real thing, son...”**  
                It wasn’t long ago that Tai told him the opposite in the VR session.  
_“The ‘real thing’ is overrated.”_  
                He would have to find peace in the absence of radio chatter and the feeling of being utterly alone.  To survive his crash-landing behind enemy lines, and go through with the silent expectation to follow SRS training he never underwent.  
_“I won’t survive out here as an R3 Rifleman.”_  
                Riflemen rarely felt the full stopping power of the IMC.  They fought alongside the Grunts in the field, below dogfights that turn aircraft debris into missiles.  They distanced themselves from the real conflict, the one waged using machines and their Pilots; the soldiers that achieved greatness by sacrificing perspective on what it meant to be human.  
_“I won’t survive being humane, either.”_  
                Humans were curious.  Humans lived within their boundaries. Humans knew their place in the world.  
_“I have to be a Pilot.”  
_                 Pilots were above curiosity.  They were starved of knowledge and trained to salivate at the dinner bell serving it.  They didn't live within boundaries, they _set_ boundaries.  As for them knowing their place in the world? They didn't have one.  
                By the Militia’s standards, Jack wasn’t a Pilot.  They would brand him a man who wished he was, unlike others who pitied those that became one.  
                But he wasn’t going to pity the man who left him with this responsibility.  He would honor the last dying wish of his father, the SRS Pilot who put faith in his son to look after his Titan.  
_“I can’t let that be for nothing.”_  
                Jack pushed the helmet down to his shoulders, and Typhon wiped away.  His shuttering breath bounced back at him, cooling the sweat beading on his lips.  The world was quiet, save for the electronic sounds of initialization that penetrated the darkness.  
                The helmet still smelled like his father- of pine needles and fresh river water.  It reminded him of the stream he took Jack and Liera to as children.  Jack closed his eyes, and inhaled the scent as if it would wake him up from the nightmare he found himself in, and then Typhon came back as reality.  
                His vision was framed in a blue, opaque outline of the visor.  Numbers and letters scrolled at each corner as if he’d plugged himself into a surveillance camera, spying on dimensions and data.  
                The helmet was its own system, syncing itself with its environment and the body it crowned.  Lines formed the frames of every plant and foreign material. It picked Typhon apart, rearranging it in reports and scans.  Everything was calculated and analyzed, measured and weighed.  
                Jack saw the world through a Pilot’s eyes for the first time.  
_“This is unreal…”_  
                A guilty ounce of amazement galvanized him.  
  
NEW USER FOUND  
  
                The alert flickered and chirped in the upper-left hand corner, followed by his identification.

FIRST NAME: JACK  
LAST NAME: COOPER  
SERIAL NUMBER: 201314727

BLOOD TYPE: A-  
BIRTH DATE: 10.26.59  
COMBAT UNIT: 41MRB-E  
  
RANK: RC3

INITIALIZING PILOT COMBAT SYSTEMS…

                Small icons popped up on the lower left-hand corner, indicating ability timers and bullets in the rifle’s chamber.  A pinch came from his back, and a magnet pulled at the implant under his skin.  
_“Ow…”  
_  
PERSONAL CLOAK – OK  
ORDNANCE – OK  
FIREARMS – OK  
  
                Jack turned to the lifeless chassis to his right, and wondered what the helmet would have to say about BT.

VANGUARD-CLASS TITAN  
POWER LEVEL: CRITICAL

                He sighed, and jumped at the sound of a loud crack.  His former home bellowed in the distance, overlooking them from afar.  The _MacAllan_ was split in half over two cliffsides, forming a bridge of twisted metal beams and sparking aftermath.  
  
SCANNING FOR POWER SOURCES…  
  
_“Yeah, right.”  
_                 Battery icons appeared over where the Titan Bay would have been.  Three out of the six beamed red.

NOT VIABLE

 _“Called it.”  
_                 Jack stumbled over to a Prowler’s pile of dead Militia soldiers, stinking of rot and infested with flies.  He coughed at the scent that plugged the helmet’s air filters, and did his best not to puke.  
_“I don’t care what helpful items they might have. I’m not touching those bodies.”  
_                 A green, blinking power icon caught his attention.

VIABLE

 _“A battery survived the crash?”_  
                He fought with a tinge of hope.  The helmet had other plans for him.  
  
ANALYZING TOPOGRAPHY…

                A sonar pulse sprang from his position and penetrated the rocky terrain of Typhon.  He could see items of interest highlighted in orange, and red blobs marked his enemies.  
“Power low.  Insufficient power.”  BT’s booming voice echoed.  
                He was crouched in the same position where he’d lost power. _  
_ “Not for long, big guy…”  Jack loaded his Flatline.  
  
UPDATING VIABLE ROUTE  
  
                A line zipped across his screen, and locked on target.  The path was set.  All there was left to do was follow it.  
                Jack took his first step on the long road set before him.  
_“Alright, IMC…Here I come.”_

…

  
                The viable battery stayed marked on Jack’s HUD.  He ran alongside the crystalline water, following it to a drop off.  Jack paused, looking at the jumpkit around his waist.  
_“Does this thing work yet?”  
_                 He jumped to a small clearing, and the thrusters fired awkwardly to break his short fall.  
_“Kind of.”  
_                  
JUMPKIT STATUS: NEW USER DETECTED

                More numbers and words followed, shifting into a string of identifiable figures.

USER MASS: 89KG  
RECALIBRATING…

                Fangs tore into something that sounded wet and sloppy from around the corner.  Jack curled his fingers over the blunt side of a boulder, peaking through a shrub that rattled in the ashen breeze.  
                A Prowler was feeding on a freshly bled IMC body.  It was detached and stretched, chewed and swallowed.   The beast’s neck arched, and it sniffed the air as the wind slunk through the spikes on its back.  A low growl escaped its throat. _  
_                 Without thinking, Jack threw a stone against an adjacent tree.  The Prowler was quick to respond, launching itself at it.  Jack opened fire, the Flatline releasing in his steady hands.  Blood peppered his body and slid down his helmet, smudging as he wiped it away.  His quickened breath frosted and faded on the inside of the visor.  
                He shook the adrenaline from him, and choked down another urge to vomit.  Three IMC soldiers littered the ground, forming a triangle around the disemboweled snack of a man.  He nudged it with his boot, freeing a radio from a pair of dead hands.  The device waned to life, and a heavily accented man crackled through its speaker, “The Ark is being transferred for recasting.  Tech has some new shell design.”  
_“The Ark?”_  
“Blisk wants no less than four regiments securing the firebase before the _Draconis_ jumps in.”  
_“Blisk should have died on Demeter…”  
_ “Kappa-one at your six.”  Another man answered.  
“Negative Kappa-one, I need you at the Reclamation Facility.  Alpha team, reposition at the firebase.”  
“Copy that, we’re on our way.”  A woman confirmed.  
                Jack caught himself snarling.  
_“What are you up to, assholes?”_  
                He snatched the radio and clipped it to the keyring where Tai had often let his helmet dangle.

JUMPKIT STATUS: DOUBLE-JUMP OFFLINE  
CHECKING USER MASS DISTRIBUTION…

                He ignored the visor’s warning and kept running, dashing through the dirt and kicking up leaves. The smell of toasted wildlife burned his throat, and the scattering birds and critters gave the false sense of untouched normalcy.   If Typhon didn’t spell death, it may have been beautiful.  
_“And then the IMC had to come fuck it up…Typical.”_  
                He leapt from the edge, wallrunning to the opposite side of a gap in what looked to be a quarry. A ripple shook the ground, and his head snapped behind him.  A fresh plume of smoke billowed from where he’d woken up.  
_“Might be a scavenger team…”  
_                 A new wave of motivation swept over him.  
_“Have to hurry.”_  
                He rounded a corner and found a Militia drop pod stabbing the ground.  Jack tripped over himself as he broke into a sprint, sliding to a stop as his hands met the side of the vessel.  
                White noise echoed from its chamber, and he fished around the cockpit for the control panel.  He turned a knob, giving way to a hoarse voice.  
“This is Captain Cole of the 3 rd Militia Grenadiers to any Militia survivors!  We are relocating to the IMC beacon at map grid 772-981.  Anyone copy?”  
                Jack fumbled with a corded microphone, catching it in both hands before clicking the button on its side, “This is Rifleman-“  
“This is Sergeant Eszo from the 2nd Militia Fusiliers!  We read you, Cole!  We’re going to make our way over to you through the Reclamation Facility.  Over!”  
_“Wait, wait! There’s an IMC Fireteam stationed there!”_  
“Copy that.  Keep your heads up.  Cole, out.”  
                He growled, clicking the mic again, “This is Rifleman Cooper! Do you read? Over!”  
                Silence followed.  
“Damn it…” He tossed the malfunctioning device on the seat, and continued his trek through a muddied corridor.  The wet dirt snapped to the jagged undersides of his boots, and puckered as each step tore the ground asunder.  
                A rumble came from just above a cliff, and two IMC carrier ships came into view.  They had a low-hanging crate tied between the two of them.  
_“Carrying Titans?”  
                _ He crouched in the leaves, and his helmet zoomed in on one of the ships.  A marking lined the side, just under the cockpit window: “Alpha Team 1935.  Carrier 23.” _  
“Alpha Team…the guys who responded to move the Ark.”  
_                 His focused retrained on the crate.  
_“So that’s what they’re so worried about transporting?  Doesn’t look like much…”  
                _ Jack jumped to grab the ledge after they disappeared behind the mountains.

JUMPKIT STATUS: CALIBRATING TO NEW PILOT  
CALIBRATING SILICON MICROGYROS 1-3…

                A flaming engine of the _MacAllan_ greeted him.  It burned hot over a waterfall in the distance, and remained still as three bursts of fire blossomed in the sky.  They plummeted to the ground, and the forest ambience quieted.  
_“Must be fresh IMC drops.  There’s no Militia dropping in around here.  Not anymore.”  
_                 His fingers twitched on his rifle, and he followed newly dried earth around a bend.He cringed as a flap of wings took him by surprise.  A Flyer perched on a boulder in the middle of the lake below.  
_“I’ve messed with enough Flyers for a lifetime…”  
_                 Jack dashed to the wall leading away from the winged predator.  The jumpkit enabled him to navigate Typhon, but it was less than perfect in its calculations.

JUMPKIT STATUS: CALIBRATING TO NEW PILOT  
CHECKING ELECTROSTATIC CIRCUITS…

 _“Finish up, already…”_  
                The metal scrapping of propellers hummed over a stream’s rushing water.  A drone came around a green hill, hovering high above him:  
“Militia intruders, this is General Marder of the Interstellar Manufacturing Corporation.”  A villainous voice left its speaker, “You’re in violation of sovereign law.  I am offering you a brief amnesty. Surrender yourself to an IMC officer or force.  If you refuse, you will be eliminated.”  
                The announcement made Jack’s skin crawl.  
_“Not a chance.  We don’t negotiate with terrorists.”  
                _ The moist air made his jumpsuit hotter as his legs pushed him from wall to ground and up again, winding over splintered banks.  He kept his footsteps quiet, staying alert for enemy contact.  He paused under a waterfall smaller than the one he watched from afar.

JUMPKIT STATUS: CALIBRATING TO NEW PILOT  
REBALANCING SENSOR FLUIDS  
  
_“Speaking of rebalancing fluids…”_  
                Jack slung his rifle, and held his hands under the water that splashed into a lagoon below.  The red was wiped away from his palms, and he formed them into a cup.  
                The light from his visor wobbled in front of him like melting glass, blurring the scene behind it.  He pressed the side of his helmet against his shoulder, opening the visor and allowing himself to sip on the water he cradled.  
_“Hope this is safe to drink…”  
_                 Distant words trailed through the wet sheets that formed the waterfalls’ underside.   
“ _We_ work for the IMC, not Blisk _or_ his mercenaries…”  
                Jack backed up, closing his visor.  
“We work for whoever the IMC say we work for.”  
                The voices were coming from an overhang, farther up the cliffs.  He followed the source, keeping himself crouched along a natural barrier between him and a 20-foot drop.  
“What are you trying to get?  A medal?”  
                The men sounded further as if they were walking away.  Jack quickened his pace, and leapt across a gap between the ledges.  
“I don’t care who’s giving the orders: Blisk and his mercs, General Marder…Us Grunts get paid the same either way.  All that _matters,_ is that thing in the mountains goes online as scheduled.”  
_“What ‘thing?’”_  
                Jack wallran from each jutting rock to another, following the conversation.  He froze as he peaked the climb, gazing at a wide distance between him and a cavern-shaped entrance across the way.  Footsteps echoed from within.  
“You think it’s true? What the techs are saying about it?”

JUMPKIT STATUS: CALIBRATING TO NEW PILOT  
ANALYZING PILOT KINEMATICS…

 _“Ugh, not now…”  
_                 He cleared the distance with the help of the initializing jump kit, and kept low to the ground as he landed.  A flaming chunk of the _MacAllan_ shed light on the narrow passage that opened onto a cliffside.  Two men shifted at the edge, facing the burning Militia flagship.  
“Do I look like a bloody anorak to you, mate…?”  One man continued.  
                Jack peaked around a rocky spike.  A soldier zipped his jumpsuit as he finished relieving himself, and the other had his arms folded.  
“…But if it _is_ true then the Militia are going to have a very bad day.  Know what I mean?”  
                Jack’s lips curled, and he felt his pulse quicken.   
_“Not as bad a day as you’re about to have.”  
_                 The hexagons in the visor rippled as his cloaking device activated, and like a hunter stalking his prey, he approached the man closest to him.  
                He yanked the Grunt’s pistol from his pocket, and in one fluid motion, Jack shot him in the back of the head.  Before the other man had time to react, he landed three shots in his chest.  
                They fell in unison, locked in a synchronized dance.  
_“Two.”_

JUMPKIT STATUS: CALIBRATING TO NEW PILOT  
FINAL CALIBRATION IN PROGRESS…  
  
                Marder’s drone flew above him, pointing at the shot-down ship _,_ “To any Militia forces in the region – we will find you.  You are advised to discard any weapons and surrender immediately. Do not attempt to resist.  Lethal force is authorized against any armed Militia personnel.”  
“Hmph…Alright.” Jack threw the IMC pistol aside, “Come find me, then…”  
                The two Grunts would be the first of many victims along his warpath to the _MacAllan._

…

  
                A batch of drones dispatched from the ship’s main entrance.  They floated around a blazing corner, taking shots at Jack as he slid across the ground.  He disposed of them with pin-point accuracy.  
_“Thirty-six.”_  
                His heels caught an edge as he cleared a jump, clinging to the heated metal that used to be the floor he walked on.  Fumes threatened his lungs, and a rumble from deep in the ship dared him to continue.  Jack climbed through the twisted entryway, cringing at the sprinklers that coughed from their lack of water supply.  Being inside the _MacAllan’s_ rubble was almost enough to break him.  
                This had been his home for months.  He felt like he was defying sacred ground as he pressed on.  The ship shook, another warning to any who’d disturb its slumber.  
                Jack ducked under a leaning metal sheet, careful to keep his grenades away from the chemical fires that survived the night.  A wire twitched in front of him like an electric tail. Vents exhausted smoke in the halls, whisking away at his coughs.  
                He leaned against a wall, and his hand slid through a layer of soot.  White letters poked through, beaming bright over an orange background.  
_“Titan Bay…”  
_                 He stepped over a gnarled mess of framing, and turned the corner.  He’d been here many times with his family.  He could still smell the oil, the dust, and the sweat clinging to his skin.  He could still hear Tai yelling at him for messing up at every chance he got, and Liera’s laughs. _  
_                 His fist curled against the wall, holding him up for support.  
_“I wish she was here...She’d know what to do.”  
_                 He hadn’t allocated much time to consider how Liera was stranded on a distant planet without hope of retrieval, just like him.  
_“No, you can’t do that right now.  Get yourself together, Cooper.”_  
                A torn-open crate held his salvation- a green cylinder that was going to serve as BT’s battery.  
“Go save BT…”  His whisper was lost in the chaos of the dying ship.  
                Jack gripped the battery’s handle, and twisted it counter-clockwise.  The battery swung, heavy in his hand.  It was a foot and a half long, and brushed against is knee.  He lifted it to meet his eyes, like a ferryman holding a lantern to guide the lost.  
_“We’re not down for the count.  Not yet.”_  
                He clipped it to his waist after disposing the silent IMC radio.  
_“Strapping a Titan battery to yourself.  What could go wrong?”  
_                 The ship jerked and a tower of oversized tiles fell behind him, blocking the way he came.  
_“That.”  
_                 He sighed, and climbed a stack of piled floor sheets that formed a bridge.  He paused at their height, and his jaw clenched.  
_“Officer’s Quarters, Level 3.”_  
                The home the Lastimosa-Cooper family had claimed during their stay with the 9 th Militia Fleet was nearby.  
_“This all went wrong…”  
                _ A click came from the ship’s speaker.  
**“All hands – the _James MacAllan_ has been sent to takedown an IMC research facility on Planet Typhon.”  
                **Jack searched for the source of the distorted message.  A woman- one he knew well.  
                Sarah Briggs. _  
_**“You are all here because you wanted to be a part of something that mattered.”  
**_“Is this a recording?”_ **  
**                 In his moment of weakness, the _MacAllan_ reminded him that he couldn’t give up, just as James MacAllan himself hadn’t. **  
“You wanted to make a difference.”**  
                He stopped at a blinking keypad resting at his hip’s level.  
_“Room 3706.”  
_                 Jack ripped the data knife from his vest, and dug the blade into a socket.  He was thankful it was automatic in its function.  
_“Might need to restock…”  
_                 He knew there was a poor chance of survival for any of their belongings, but he felt and overwhelming urge to check, to visit his safe-haven one last time…even if it meant witnessing what it’d been reduced to. **  
** The door creaked open, hissing on abused hinges.  The smell was enough to make his eyes water, and a small, dead creature lay in the middle of the room.  
_“Oh f-fuck…Ugh…God-“  
_                 His heart ached, and he took deep breaths to calm the pain in his chest.  He hovered over the lifeless white fur that was smudged with black, just like the day Ryan rescued it.  
_“Dusty…”_  
                Jack knelt to pet him, and a tear hit the inside of his visor.  The cat’s silky fur danced between his fingertips.  
                He pulled the sheet off Liera’s bed and slung it over the body.  It would be the perfect resting place, under the sheets where he preferred to spend most of his time.  Jack bit his lip, turning away from the lump under the blanket that no longer wiggled.  
                He retreated to his father’s room.  It was off-limits, a rule that still felt wrong to break.  
**“You were brave enough to join the people who believed in protecting the freedom of the Frontier.”  
                ** Sarah’s voice echoed outside.  
                Jack looked at a shattered case of medals, and shuddered at the thought of leaving them.  He placed a Titan Wars medal in his pocket, and patted the outside.  
_“You were brave, dad.  Now it’s my turn.”_  
                He shook his head clear, and went to the closet.  
_“Need to find a bag…”  
                _ Duffle bags were standard issued, and he knew he’d find one somewhere in the room.  His hands met a fabric strap, and he pulled it free from under boxes of spilled memories he knew he had to leave behind.  
                He ripped the bag open before clawing around the closet for any extra jumpsuits and gear.  As he began to pack, a folder shuffled at the bottom.  
_“What’s this?”  
_                 He left black thumbprints on its shell as he pulled it closer.  It held a vintage SRS stamp and the word “Classified,” marked the front.  He ignored the warning and flipped it open:

NAME: Black, K. Nathan  
CALLSIGN: Blacklist  
AFFILIATIONS: Interstellar Manufacturing Corporation; Hammond Engineering; Special Recon Squadron  
RANK: Frontier Militia Sleeper Agent  
SEX: Male  
HEIGHT: 6’0”  
DOB: N/A  
BIRTHPLACE: Earth  
CHARGES: Espionage.  Involved in IMC Operation: Persephone.

                Jack dropped the folder in the bag as the _MacAllan_ reminded him he was in danger with an explosion from its depths.  
_“Keep moving.  Look at this later.”  
_                 He stuffed what he could get his hands on in the bag, and dashed towards the kitchen. His boots trampled broken shards of glass from where the cabinets released plates and mugs to the floor.  He frantically packed as many dry goods that would fit, and was pleased to find a canteen in the back of the pantry.  
                It was empty, but it would serve as a useful tool.  
_“Just have to survive.”  
_                 He slung the duffle over his shoulder, and adjusted it so it wasn’t resting on the cloaking device’s battery pack strapped to his back.  
                Jack looked at the door leading out of their salvaged apartment.  A picture clung to a cracked sheet of glass, crooked in its broken frame.  He knelt to pick up the family portrait he admired before leaving with Tai.  
**“As individuals, the IMC might be able to pick us off. That’s what they’ve been trying to do.”**  
                He folded it and put it away.  
_“Not today.”  
_                 Jack straightened his shoulders, and left his shattered home behind.  
_“Time to get BT online.”  
  
_

…

                Wallrunning was different with the heavy pack and the battery dangling from his waist.  Jack avoided the motion at all costs, trying to stay as low to the ground as possible.  The helmet guided him back to the flickering red light that served as his beacon.  
                Trees and vines clung to a natural bridge arching over the stream he followed.  Voices carried over the running water that snaked through the ground.  
“A Vanguard-class Titan.”  
“These things are rare.  We should sell it.”  
                Jack was enraged, and he kept close to the cliff that winded towards BT.  
“No bloody way.  Those weren’t Blisk’s orders.”  
“That guy doesn’t scare me…None of those mercenaries do.”  
“Sure, you say that now.  Just wait till they got a gun to your head.”  
                A pair of IMC soldiers stood in front of BT, watching him with their guns lowered.  
_“How about a Militia Rifleman holding a gun to your head?”  
_                 Jack took a step forward, ready to make his move.  His cloaking device hid him, and the only indications of his presence were shifting leaves and the beat of his heart pounding in his ears.  
“General Marder better be planning something big, putting those mercenaries above us in the chain of command.”  
                He stopped, and pushed his back against a boulder.  
_“What’s this, now?”  
_ “They’re bastards but they sure as hell know what they’re doing.  Did you see all that A.O.D. they brought with them?”  
“Yeah, Blisk’s own custom design.  Cloaked anti-orbital defenses.  That Militia recon fleet never stood a chance.”  
                Jack squinted.  
_“So they_ did _know we were coming…And they set a trap...”  
_                 He started to string the information together.  
_“Something called the Ark.  Another something in the mountains.  Blisk in charge of Typhon’s IMC forces.  A research facility.  All somehow being coordinated against the Militia.”  
_                 The conversation ended, and the men’s lives were no longer necessary.  
“This is Squad 14 reporting.  Vanguard-class-“  
                The soldier fell to the ground.  A smoking pistol trembled in Jack’s hand, and took aim at the other man standing.  
“Hostile Pilot spotted! We’re under attack!” He returned fire, and Jack took cover.  
_“Not how I imagined the first time I’d be called a Pilot…”  
_                 The suppressing gunfire faltered, and he heard the clicks of a reloading rifle.  
“Come in, anyone-“  
                Jack leaned over the boulder and took a shot, landing a bullet in the man’s throat.  He ran to BT’s side, kicking the dying Grunt in the face. _  
_**“Squad 14 respond.  Squad 14, do you copy?”** The radio crackled.  
_“Negative.”_  
                Jack lifted the Titan battery from the clip, and stepped around BT’s chaingun.  He took to his side, ducking under his green and orange arm.  The two empty battery sockets were lined with neon lights, waiting to be powered by the cylinder in his hands.  
_“You might be an older Vanguard model, but…”  
_                 He lifted it to the middle hole, and pushed it in.  
_“Gotta’ have some fight left in you, right?”  
_                 Jack turned the handle, and felt the end of it lock in position.  
                BT’s systems hummed to life, and the core behind the battery spun.  Lights flickered all over, signaling the rebirth of his consciousness.  
                Jack jumped back as BT gripped his knee, pushing himself upright.  
“Power at two-thirds.  Data core re-initialized.”  BT’s left leg shook violently, and he fell back into the same crouching position, defeated.  
“Ocular system – online.”  The light on his hub flickered in sync with his deep voice, looking around frantically as if unsure of his surroundings.  
“Hey, BT…We’re on Planet Typhon-“  
                BT twisted towards him with unnerving speed, “Adjusting focus.”  His lens narrowed.  
                Jack dropped his rifle, and held up his hands, “It’s just me!  It’s Jack-“ _  
_ “Are you all right, Pilot?”  
                He swallowed, “I think so…Wait, did you just call me Pilot?”  
_“Grunts calling me that? Sure. BT? Not right.”  
_ “Yes.  The late Captain Lastimosa gave you the provisional rank of Acting Pilot of BT-7274…I am a Vanguard-class Titan of the Militia SRS, Marauder Corps…Congratulations on your promotion.”  
                If it was possible for Titans to sound exhausted, BT would fit the bill.  
“I know…” Jack turned to Tai’s pile of rocks and frowned, “And thanks…”  
_“A cold reunion, at best.”_  
“My systems are rebooting, but a third battery will accelerate the process.”  BT’s light followed, and he looked at the grave, “Without it, we may not survive through enemy territory.”  
“What about you?”  
“I will remain here.  Until I am mobile, I will assist you through your helmet radio when possible.”  
                Jack and BT stared together.  He was unsure of the Titan’s thoughts, but felt an undeniable tension in the air.  
_“He probably regrets saving me…I cost him his Pilot.”  
_ “Initiating terrain analysis.” BT announced.  
                The helmet scanned the area as it did before, and found a second viable battery on the other half of the _MacAllan.  
_ “I recommend immediate action.”  
                Jack turned away from him, letting out a breath that was captured in his chest, “Alright…I’ll be back soon.”  
“Be careful, Pilot.”  
_“I wish he’d stop calling me that.”_  
                He looked at his rifle, the one he pilfered from his father, “Will do.”  
                Swallowing his sadness, he marched down a slope and leapt towards the opposite side of a chasm.  
_“Back into the depths of Hell I go…”_

…

                The momentum of his run gave Jack the extra speed required to reach a far-off cliff.  A steel beam swung through the space, threatening to drop at the slightest imbalance of weight.  Marder’s drone returned, scanning the area:  
“To all Militia personnel – the IMC will grant safe passage back to the Angel City Penitentiary to all who surrender. It would be wise to turn yourselves in to any IMC search teams immediately.”  
                Jack huffed, “You couldn’t pay me enough to go back to Angel City...”  
“Pilot.” BT’s face appeared on his visor.  
                He jumped, scared by the sudden comment.  
“I advise against turning yourself over to the IMC.  Voice pattern analysis indicates they are lying.”  
“You don’t think I’m that stupid, do you?” Jack walked along the edge of the cliff, looking down at the river below.  
“Undetermined. I will not know the full extent of your brain function until we’ve established a neural link.”  
“Okay, well, I’m not an idiot, and I’m not going anywhere...”  
_“Smart ass.”_  
“Understood, but I do recommend you move.  IMC salvage teams are not far away.”  
_“Jesus Christ.”_  
“What I meant was that I’m not leaving _you_.” _  
_ “It is a common requirement for Pilots to maneuver in situations without a linked Titan.”  
                A Militia dropship hung by a parachute, swaying between two steep drops.  
“I’m moving, I’m moving!”  
“Proceed with caution.  The _MCS James MacAllan_ is unstable.”  
_“You don’t say?”_  
                Jack jumped to the pod, and clung to the doors.  
                The radio communications inside the lifeboat waned, “Raptor 3, we’re taking heavy hits!  The IMC have us surrounded!”  
_“That’s Nelson…”_  
“To any Militia survivors, if you can hear this do _not_ go to the Reclamation Facility! I repeat, stay away from the Reclamation Facility!”Nelson released a battle cry, “Open fire, open fire!”  
                The transmission ended.  Jack rolled his neck and kept moving.  
_“I wonder if the others made it…”_  
“Pilot, despite the compromised location, we will have to reach the Reclamation Facility as stated in the SRS briefing of Special Operation 217.”  
                He grinned, _“_ I’m fully prepared to ignore his warning, BT.”  
“Affirmative…”  
                Two walls created a choke point, forming a rocky hallway leading to a cliff.  
“Hostiles spotted at your location.  Stay alert.”  
                Three heat signatures burned above an overhang.  Jack used his cloaking device to stealthily navigate under it, and gripped a slick rock to begin his climb.  
“Lieutenant, what do you know about Kuben Blisk?”  
“I hear he used to be IMC.  He’s in charge of these…Apex Predators.  Top shelf mercenaries, invitation only.  I’m surprised you’ve never heard of it.”  
“Not a bad gig.  Maybe I’ll become a mercenary.”  
_“You’ll die before you get the chance.”_  
                He yanked one of the man’s ankles and pulled.  Before he landed on his back, Jack pulled the pin of his friend’s grenade.  His jump kit carried him away from the bloody explosion.  
                He slid across the ground, tripping another Grunt before leaping onto a wall.  
“Pilot, my mapping systems have been restored.” BT announced, “The ambush of the 9 th Militia Fleet has landed us far off course from our original destination.  We are located in hostile territory.  We cannot stay here long.”  
                Jack threw a grenade of his own in the middle of a group of IMC soldiers firing at him from the other side.  
“I don’t plan on it.”  
                He double-jumped over the second ignition, and landed on a ledge overlooking the singed patch of Typhon.  He stood at the edge that swiped up the side of a mountain, and a hulking thruster of the _MacAllan_ poked in his view.  He pressed his back and palms against the wall, his heels separating and reuniting in careful inches.  
_“Don’t look down, don’t look down…”  
_                 Jack sighed, “You think we can survive through this, BT?”  
“We have no other options.  We will have to improvise and adapt if we wish to survive.”  
“Sounds like something dad would say…”  Jack stepped off the ledge, standing at the peak of the trail.  Rifle in hand, he gazed upon the crash.  
_“I was so young when I met BT for the first time.”_  
                He’d been a standard Titan during the Titan Wars, but when his computer was swapped with his AI core, it gave him a soul.  It made him the gentle giant that helped Tai raise him and his sister.  
“You know, I was barely 2 years old when you linked with my father.  March 9 th, 2261…” He turned on his heel.  
“Correct.  Captain Lastimosa linked with me 9,125 days ago…”  
                BT sounded sad, as if he felt the same pain Jack did.  
“He was an excellent Pilot…and a good friend.”  
                Hearing BT refer to his father in such regards punched him in the gut. _  
_ “We’ll make them pay, BT.  All of them.”  
                A few seconds went by before he answered.  
“Affirmative.”

…

                A base of operations had been formed outside the _MacAllan’s_ secondary entrance _._ The ground was soaked with blood by the time Jack finished killing a dozen IMC soldiers, and the opening was marked with lights as if they’d already been digging through it.  
“Looks like they got curious.”  Jack gripped his rifle, and entered the ship once again.  
                A fire heated him as he walked up a ramp.  
“Advanced security measures were put in place under orders from Combat Intel Specialist Cheng Lorck, also known as ‘Bish.’  Any data held within the _MacAllan’s_ network has been erased.”  
“And the field copies?”  
“Undetermined.”  
                He remembered the folder he found in the bag, and wondered how many more of them survived the fires that were scattered inside the ship.  
“Hey, you don’t know anything about a Pilot named Nathan Black, do you?”  
“…Negative.”  
                He frowned, “That didn’t sound too convincing.”  
                A familiar buzzing forced him to turn around.  
“We know there are Militia survivors out there.  We will find you and we will track you down, one by one.”  General Marder’s drone hovered at Jack’s level with the camera facing away, “I ask you to come out of hiding while you still can.  We have IMC search teams everywhere...”  It shifted left and right, as if looking for something.  
_“Or someone…”_  
“…If you resist capture, you will be branded an outlaw and we will have no choice but to kill you.”  
                The blades spun at the opposite end of Jack’s sights.  His rifle was at the ready.  
“General Marder!”  
                The drone spun around, wobbling in place from the quick shift in direction, “Lower your weapon and identify yourself, Pilot.”  
“My name is Jack Cooper.”  He growled, “And _you_ can go fuck yourself.”  
                His bullet pierced the drone, and he fired again.  The machine sparked, smoked, and twitched on the ground.  
“That was unwise.” BT mumbled.  
“Maybe.” Jack lowered his rifle, “But it felt good.”  
“We should refrain from offering any further information to the IMC.”  
                Jack ventured further into the ship, “Sure thing.”  
                An ignited gas exhaust barred the entrance with a string of flames.  
_“Awesome.”  
_                 He spotted a duct opening with its cover blown off.  
_“Wouldn’t be the craziest thing you’ve done today.”  
_                 His chest hit the floor, and he began to crawl.  The panels were bent awkwardly, and small gaps below him were heated with fires that burned underneath.  The hot metal cooked him while a haze clung to the air, warming his insides and reducing visibility.  
**“The IMC thrives on the casual indifference of others.  They prey on the downtrodden, inviting them to trade all their freedom for a little security.”  
                ** A muffled version of Sarah’s recording echoed through the ventilation duct.  
“This is the Commander of the Marauder Corps, a section of the Militia’s Special Recon Squadron, or SRS.”  
“I know, BT.  Her name is Sarah Briggs.  I’ve met her a few times.”  
**“We’re not going to hide and let them come to us; we’re going to them.** **”**  
                Jack gripped a bar below, and let himself fall out of an opening.  He landed in a crouch, trying to find a new path to the battery he sought.  A light shown above three ledges formed by collapsed walls, and he double-jumped to grab the lowest.  
“Is there anyone alive on the ship?”  
“No.  Scans do not detect any life signs within the _MCS James MacAllan,_ but 90% of the lifeboats have been ejected.  There is still hope.”  
“Hope…” Jack lifted himself.  
_“What good that’s done for us…”_  
**“It is up to each and every one of you to restore their hope and their resolve, to fight shoulder to shoulder, so that we may all enjoy a life on the Frontier, free of oppression.”**  
                Sarah’s motivation and BT’s optimism may have helped him at one point, but the fact that he was traversing through a shot-down Militia flagship overrode the prospect.  
                He pulled a pair of stuck doors apart just enough to slip through.  
“Pilot, our location has been compromised.”  
                Jack’s breathing faltered, and he pushed further.  
**“We’re all together in this.  Our very freedom is at stake.”  
                ** A soft, green glow came from around a corner labeled, “Research and Development.”  He hadn’t been allowed in this room, either.  
                Most of the computers had been destroyed by what seemed like an internal combustion device, as the metal edges were pointed outwards.  
“I found the battery.  On my way.”  He did the best he could to hide the panic in his voice.  
“Please hurry.”  BT sounded as if he was doing the same.  
**“We fight as a unit – because we are stronger together.”  
                ** Jack pulled the battery from its socket on the wall, and attached it to his hip.  
_“You’re right about one thing, Briggs…”_ His HUD marker moved to a safer exit, _“BT and I will be stronger together.”_

…

                Jack moved as quickly as his legs would carry him, bounding from side to side along the now-familiar cliffsides of Typhon.  
“IMC transmission intercepted.  Patching through.”  
                BT’s message almost made him miss his jump.  
_“Damn it.”  
_ “Slone to Salvage Team Gamma.”  A woman with an accent matching Blisk’s ordered, “There’s a Vanguard-class Titan near the wreck of the _MacAllan._   Chassis number Bravo-Tango Seven-Two-Seven-Four.  Bring it in for me, ey?  It’s a real trophy, that one is.  Over.”  
“Rodger that.  Don’t see one of those every day.  Salvage Team Gamma is en route.  Out.”  
                Jack could see BT from his high vantage point, and began to make his way down the rocky ledges, “You’re famous out here, buddy.”  
“Regrettably.”  
                Three drones were circling high above BT.  Jack ejected from the wall, firing at each of them with his pistol.  
                BT’s hub watched him as he landed, “Those drones were IMC scouts.  Enemy reinforcements will be on their way.  We must complete the neural link immediately.  Please install the final battery.”  
_“Neural link…Fuckfuckfuck-“  
                _ Jack panicked internally as he slipped the final battery into its socket. _  
_                 BT pushed himself off the ground eagerly, “Power at full capacity.”  
                He flexed his arms and shook his legs, as if working out cramps.  He picked up his chaingun and scanned the area as would an automatic sentry.  
“Pilot, we must establish a neural link in order to proceed.”  
Jack waved his hands, “I don’t think that’s a good idea-“  
                BT put the gun on his back and crouched, “Please embark when ready.”  The cockpit doors opened.  
                Jack tried to shake the inbound memories from his head, and the stories that followed them. Angel City.  EV’s cockpit getting shattered, and almost losing his sister on Demeter.  The Titan nearly dropping on him, right before Tai and BT arrived.   BT releasing his dying father.  
                He gripped the sides of his helmet, begging for the flashbacks to stop.  He wanted to escape them, to not fear Titans as if they were a plague.  
“Pilot.”  
“Stop fucking calling me that!” Jack shouted, “I’m a Rifleman.  I didn’t get my Pilot certification because I’m fucking scared of Titans!”  
_“I’m pathetic.”_  
“I understand, Cooper.”  
                Even though it was awkward speaking with him while the cockpit doors were open, BT’s understanding was soothing.  
                Jack begrudgingly unslung his provisions from his shoulder, and held them in trembling hands.  He took one step forward.  Then another.  He closed his eyes as he pushed the duffle bag under the seat.  He could hardly breathe, and sweat beaded his forehead.  
**“It’s a simulation, son.  It’s not the real thing.”  
                ** But this was a real Titan, with real weapons, with real _everything_.  
“I can’t.” Jack shuffled backwards.  
“You have to.”  
“No, I don’t.”  
                An IMC dropship jumped into view, and flew towards them.  
“Failure to link to Pilot would be a direct violation of Protocol 1.  We are more efficient together.”  
                Jack hugged himself, and tried to shake his father’s dying face from his head.  
“Captain Lastimosa ordered me to take care of you.”  
                He stared at his dad’s chair.  
**“Take care of him…”  
**                 Jack realized Tai wasn’t talking to him when he said his final words. He used his last breath to ensure his safety.  
_“This isn’t just a randomly assigned Titan.  It’s BT.  He’s right, you have to do this.”  
_                 He leapt into the opening, and his brief spark of courage dissipated.  His feet sat on the edge of the cockpit doors, and his arms gripped the sides.Display screens, buttons, and switches lit up on either side of the armrests, and he had no idea what any of it did.  
                He wasn’t qualified for this.  But he didn’t have a choice.  
“Trust me.”  
“Alright.” Jack sighed the rigid word.  
                He gripped the armrests, careful not to hit anything.  After fumbling himself around, he sat in the chair.  BT wasted no time, and began standing before the cockpit was fully closed.  
“WAHH!”  
                The ground pulled away, and BT’s shadow darkened the earth below.  The doors shut, and the console illuminated the dark chamber.  Silver bracers spun around his arms, pinning them down.  
“Let me out!”  
                A harness snapped over his chest.  
“BT!”  
                His legs were locked into place by guards.  
“STOP!”  
                Lights flickered overhead, displaying mechanisms and incoming data streams:  Energy readings, locations, Jack’s vitals-  
“Protocol 1: Link to Pilot.”  The yellow text floated on Jack’s visor as BT continued, “Establishing neural link.”  
                A pinch formed in Jack’s mind as green lights similar to the VR pods’ spun crazily.  The pain shot from the left side of his brain to the other, and put him in a daze.  His arms clenched, his hands furled and unfurled, and his vision went white.  
                The cockpit came rushing back.  
“Neural Link: Established…Rifleman Jack Cooper – you are now confirmed as Acting Pilot of BT-7274.”  
                His thoughts were no longer his own.  He could feel BT’s presence lingering in the deepest corners of his consciousness.  He felt what BT felt, an overwhelming sense of loyalty and responsibility directed towards his new Pilot.  
“Protocol 2: Uphold the Mission.  Our orders are to resume Special Operation 217: Rendezvous with Major Anderson of the SRS.”  
                A ship’s engines sputtered above them.  
“Protocol 3: Protect the Pilot.  Re-initializing critical systems…”  
                The middle screen on the doors’ interior jerked between purple, green, and blue.  The image was stabilized into a blurry depiction of Typhon.  The left side followed, then the right, top, and bottom.   
“I am detecting incoming enemy forces.”  
                The panels melded together and refocused into a clear image of enemy contact.  
                A line of Spectres lined the top of the cliff, shooting down at them.  Their bullets bounced off the cockpit, sparking and ricocheting into the bush.  
“Neural link complete.  Primary Weapon Control and Motion Link reestablished.”  
                A notification blinked on Jack’s HUD, highlighting a trigger next to his thumb.  He pressed it, and a red circle clung to one of the Spectres.  He released, firing a rocket.  
“Whoa.”  
                Jack let out a giggle, and quickly got ahold of himself.  
“These shoulder mounted rocket pods will lock onto multiple enemy targets.  The longer you focus the targeting system, the more locks you will achieve.”  BT instructed.  
“Got it.”  
                He held down the button longer, and six locks appeared on screen.  Jack let go of the trigger, and trails of smoke flew from BT’s shoulders, exploding on impact.  
_“This is fucking incredible.”  
_ “To our left.”  
                BT turned, and his left hand shot out in front of them.  It projected a blue forcefield, catching the rockets another team of Spectres fired.  
“The Vortex Shield catches incoming rounds and missiles.  Launch any captured objects back at the enemy.”  BT highlighted another trigger to Jack’s right.  
                The vortex shield faded from blue to orange, “Charge depleting.”  
                Jack pulled the trigger with his finger, and the missiles were returned to the Spectres.  They disappeared into a cloud of robot parts.  
_“Could’ve used this when we landed…”_  
“Pilot, enemy Titanfall detected.  We will have to fight our way to safety.  Get ready.”  BT took his machinegun from his back.  
“Great.” Jack tensed, “Just got to kill a few bad guys.”  
“A positive attitude can only improve our situation.”  
                A red glow blossomed in the sky, and the whistle of Titanfall crackled through the air.  
“You sure about this?” Jack whimpered.  
“Yes.  Trust me.”  
                This was the same Titan that watched Jack grow up.  The same…person…that protected his father for years, even before he was “BT-7274,” and not just “BT.”  
“I do.” _  
_                 The ground shuddered, and an orange dome challenged them on the opposite side of the stone arch.  A smaller Titan wiggled in the middle of it, arming itself with its weapon.  
“Militia Titan spotted – chassis number BT-7274.”  
                A generic IMC avatar popped up onscreen with the words, “Enemy Transmission,” sprawled underneath of it.  It was unsettling meeting a Titan at eyelevel, even being in a much bigger one.  
                Jack instinctively reached for his gun, but his arms wouldn’t move.  Instead, BT’s chaingun pointed itself at the Titan.  
_“This…is this how the neural link works?”_  
                A slew of rockets came from the IMC Titan, and Jack pushed his body to the right.  BT followed, sidestepping the attack.  A spray of bullets left the chaingun on Jack’s commands, and dug deep into the enemy.  
“Taking hits!” The IMC Pilot reported.  
“Damn right you are...” Jack growled.  
“What’s that?  Got a mouth on you?”  
_“He can hear me?”  
                _ More rockets fired from the Titan and were caught in BT’s vortex shield.  He and BT launched them away, taking the IMC Pilot off guard, “Not bad, Pilot.  Not bad…”  
                The enemy Titan was on fire, and moving closer.  
“Uh, BT?”  
                BT charged forward.  
                Jack could feel his limbs moving as if they were his own.  The enemy took aim, and BT backhanded the rifle away, punching the cockpit and sending the IMC Titan stumbling.  A glow came from its core, burning brighter with each passing second.  
“Bloody Vanguard-class Titans!”  
                BT shielded the cockpit, covering his face from the blast.  The dust settled, and his hand lowered.  
“Well done, Pilot.  Our combat effectiveness rating has increased.”  
                Jack caught his breath, letting his shoulders relax.  
“That was…” He closed his eyes, “I don’t even know…”  
_“I just fought a Titan…with a Titan…in BT…”_  
“More IMC salvage teams are on the way.  Our only chance of survival is to uphold the mission of rendezvousing with Major Anderson.  Until then, you and I are on our own.”  
                Jack’s face fell. _  
_ “Marking your HUD.  We must move quickly, Pilot.”  
“Right...” He choked, peeking at Tai for one last goodbye.  
_“Damn it, old man...”  
_                 BT turned away from the grave.  
_“…Even dead, your surprises still suck.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Behind the Scenes:**  
>     
> [Crash Site Art 2](https://www.artstation.com/artwork/x2qxR)  
>   
> [BT-7472 on YouTube ](https://youtu.be/lWnvWbd4KGo?t=16m43s)  
>   
> **WARNING: Stop at 39:20 to avoid spoilers.**  
>   
>  **Author's Notes:**  
>   
>  1\. I'm sorry it took so long to update. I've been in and out of the hospital for the past month. Thank you for sticking it out with me! <3  
>   
> 2\. I never realized the last four digits of Jack's serial number (taken from the actual game) were 4727. These are the four numbers of BT's model number (7274), but backwards. Interesting :P


	21. Unscheduled Maintenance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“There’s birth, there’s death, and in between there’s maintenance.”_  
>  -Tom Robbins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ** _Archive Quick Reference Guide_**  
>   
>  **Simulacrum:** Simulacra are digital copies of a Pilot's memories, knowledge, and personality. It is unknown precisely how Simulacra are made, but their most common application among the IMC and Frontier Militia is to preserve a Pilot whose original body has been destroyed or damaged beyond repair. The copies are downloaded into robotic bodies, allowing those Pilots to live on and continue fighting.

* * *

* * *

                iera opened her visor as she walked down the stairs leading away from Fort Strong.  A Vertibird landed at EV’s side, kicking up dust and dirt into the hazy afternoon.  She backed away, eyeing it curiously as if encountering a new friend she’d yet to introduce herself to. _  
_                 The side of the steel bird slid open and unloaded a group of soldiers.  Liera recognized Haylen as her boots hit the ground, turning around to receive her field pack from a man in the cabin.  
_“Wolfe…”_  
                They quickly surrounded an officer who issued orders from a clipboard.  His voice was distant, but the amplified microphone in Liera’s helmet translated the muffled words.  
“Squad Padlock, you’re to rendezvous with Rhys below Fort Strong and oversee the transport of the recovered warheads.  Wolfe, there’s an intact Mutant body at these coordinates.  Follow Knight Kagan to the stairs in the central building to access the roof, and have the body delivered to Senior Scribe Neriah.  Haylen, you’re to help me assist Paladin Danse, and then join Padlock below the Fort.  The rest of you – collect the holotags from the fallen and gather any intel you can.  From here on out, I will be issuing orders during this operation.  Dismissed.”  
“Yes, sir!” The group of 20 responded and dispersed in Liera’s direction.  
                Her wrist computer chimed at her touch, and she kept her head low as the sprinting pack of soldiers charged towards the Fort.  
_“Act like you’re busy…Maybe they won’t notice you.”_

…

                EV’s cockpit doors whined, and a pair of faces replaced the ocular panels in front of Danse.  He shakily removed the oxygen mask from his mouth, and the cord snapped back into its secured spot.  Haylen pulled herself in by the armrests of the chair, yanking the silver Mylar blanket off him.  
“Come on, Danse.  Let’s get you up to Cade.”  
                Danse looked around, suffering a slight brain fog from the medicine EV administered.  
“Where’s Liera?”   
                Haylen turned around, “She’s coming.”  
“Paladin Danse.” The other soldier greeted.  
“Knight-Commander Longmire…” Danse swallowed, wetting his itching throat.  
“EV told me you might be a bit wobbly.” Haylen tucked herself under his arm, and Longmire balanced him on the other side.  
                Danse gave them a nod, and they lifted him from the Pilot’s chair, “I got the ‘Get-stimmed-then-thrown-in-a-Titan-hospital’ treatment.  You were right when you said she’s incredible.”  
                The three of them stepped down together.  Danse almost tumbled, but Longmire held him firm.  They lowered him to the ground, propping his back against EV’s leg.  
                Longmire smirked and adjusted his hat, yelling over the roaring engines of a lifting Vertibird, “And here you are on the med evac roster…You look fine to me!”  
“Try as they may, these bastards won’t keep me from hunting every last one of them and putting a bullet in their skulls.”  He took a deep breath, “Came close to stopping me, though.”  
“Either way, I’m glad they didn’t.” Longmire handed Danse the clipboard, “A list of the deployed and their orders.”  
_“Get that thing away from me.”_  
                Danse pushed the document back towards him, “I trust your judgement, Longmire.  I’m in no condition to make critical decisions.”  
“Of course, Paladin.  Thank you.”  
                Haylen placed herself between them, “Knight-Commander, I’m going to take his vitals before I send him up.  I can take it from here.”  
                Longmire hesitated, “Take care of him.  He’s an asset to the Brotherhood.”  
                She pursed her lips, and her mouth twisted.  
_“Don’t…Please don’t.”  
_                 She inhaled sharply, “Yes, sir.”  
_“Phew.”  
_ “He’s also a human being and I’ve-  
“Haylen.” Danse coughed, “Stop.”  
                She rolled her eyes and slipped the stethoscope from around her neck, plugging her ears with the buds.  
                Longmire raised a brow at Danse, who shook his head and mouthed _“not now.”  
                _ The Commander silently agreed, and left them alone.  Danse closed his eyes as the cold circle under Haylen’s careful hand moved from one spot to his chest to another.  
“You know, they told me you guys made a mess down here.  They weren’t over-exaggerating.”  
“Oh, it’s a mess alright.” Danse ran his hand through his damp hair, “Glad to see you back at it, though.”  
“Being on bedrest had its perks.”  
“I can imagine.”  
                He gazed at the mass of plated technology that hovered above him.  He thought back to all the things he saw inside, and how seamlessly EV interacted with Liera.  
“Being in the cockpit…It really changes your perspective on her.”  
                Haylen smirked, looping her tool around her neck again, “EV, or Liera?” _  
_ He whipped his head around, “Pardon?”  
“Speak of the Devil.” She nodded to her left, and offered a hand to help him stand.  
                He pulled himself to his feet, and was relieved to see Liera on approach.  
                The barrel of her rifle bounced lazily between her hips, and she had a slight limp in her walk. Blood crusted over her face and masked the Militia’s markings on her armor.  The jump kit around her waist sputtered with sparks that matched the wound on her synthetic arm, and the cut on her forehead was dark, possibly infected.  She was a walking incarnation of the horrors she faced and the measures she took to see them vanquished.  
                She paid no mind to the deployed Scribes and recovery teams around her.  She tapped away at her wrist computer, stepping over obstacles as if having a second pair of eyes aimed at the ground.  
                Danse pushed himself from EV, stumbling in place.  
“Oh, no you don’t.” Haylen barred him, “Don’t even-“  
                He took a step forward, brushing her arm aside with the broad expanse of his chest.  
“Paladin.”  
                He ignored her, already establishing a steady rhythm of one unsure step after another.  He heaved for air, and the sway of his body threatened to throw him off balance.  Moving hurt.  Breathing hurt.  But he had to get to her.  Had to make sure she was real.  Alive.  
“Liera.”  He croaked.  
                Her chin rose ever slowly.  Calculated.  Precise.  Her features were hard, framed by Ghoul remnants and death.  But when she saw him, they softened.  She looked at him in a way no other woman had before, with something that couldn’t be replicated.  Couldn’t ever be replaced.  
“Dear God,” She broke into a run, “What do you think you’re doing?”  
                Liera closed the painful distance between them, and put her hands on his shoulders to keep him from falling over, “Did something happen?  Is everything al-“  
                Danse pulled her into his sore chest, closing his eyes and narrowing his world to her.  He ignored the vests, batteries, and whatever else that was strapped onto her as it dug into him.  He didn’t care that she smelled like a sweaty corpse that’d been left to rot in the sun for a week.  
                The coolness of her metal arm numbed the pain in his hand.  The warmth of her skin underneath her layers of armor was proof of her existence.  The steel slivers in her head between his fingers as her cheek was pressed to him reminded him she’d been through worse, and she was a fighter.  He told himself he hadn’t had a reason to worry about the Pilot sent from the stars.  
                But when Liera returned the hug, she squeezed him tighter than he imagined.  He’d been hoping to get yelled at, to be told to get it together, to have some verification that she hadn’t been as close to never returning as he thought. _  
_                 Her shoulders rose and fell with a heavy breath, and he rubbed her back as professionally as he could.  His wet jumpsuit snapped against him when she pulled away, having got stuck to her by the bloody glue that now stained him.  
                He deflected the stares that piled on, and her dazed eyes found him through the cloud of confusion they encased themselves in.  
“People are watching.” She licked the scab that split her lower lip.  
“Should I yell at them for not working?”  
“No.” She chuckled, “No, you shouldn’t.”  
                The trickle of her laugh matched the pulsing in his throat.  
“Don’t ever do that again.”  His words came out angry, harsh, and coarse.  
“Is that an order?”  
“No…If it was, you’d be more inclined to ignore it.”  He brushed her hair from her face, “Call it doing me a favor…Because I’m done losing people I care about, too.”  
                She chewed on her lip.  She was zoning somewhere else, somewhere far and distant from the moment he wanted to steal.  
“Hopefully there aren’t any more rifts on Earth.”  
“I don’t care if there are.” He arched his neck to put his face in front of hers, wrangling her attention back to him, “Never again.”  
“Fine.” She seemed irritated, too, “On one condition.”  
                Liera jabbed a finger in his chest, and it hurt.  Bad.  His face twisted, and he rubbed the aching spot.  
“No more ‘last stands’ from the almighty Paladin Danse.”  
                He wanted to argue, to say that he didn’t have a choice – but he knew that would be her counter, as well.  
“Deal.”

…

                Liera walked Danse back to where he came from, cocking her head at the short woman engaged in a conversation with her Titan.  
“Four years of rigorous training.  Only 2% of all applicants pass.” EV answered, “However, if your desire is to be on maintenance, you’d only need two years of accelerated study in the University.”  
“Maintenance sounds more my speed.  Do they do field work, too?”  
“Yes.  Third Grade Specialists are deployed in times of war for on-the-fly Titan and ship repairs.  They are also required to have medical training for personnel.”  
“So basically, they’re Scribes?”  
                EV’s lens blinked, “It would seem there are parallels, yes.”  
“What are you guys talking about?” Liera asked as Danse propped himself up.  
                Haylen blushed, “Uh, nothing.  Just, uhm…I should probably get to work.”  
                She adjusted the Scribe pack on her shoulders, “Rico’s ready for you. 17 is in the shop, he’s over there in 20.”  She lowered her goggles and punched Liera’s shoulder, “Left your signature all over the place.  You gave these Mutants a run for their money…And a few Ghouls from the look of that goo all over you."  
“Left ‘em without a dime to their name…” Liera poked around on her computer, “I see EV transmitted the location of the Mutant I choked.”  
“You choked a Mutant?” Haylen laughed, “How?”  
“The stock of my gun.  Having a supercharged arm helped.”  
“Man, I need one of those.  Don’t suppose you came with an extra?”  
“I’m afraid not.”  
                Danse put a hand on his hip, “Why did you risk that?”  
“Live specimen to dissect.”  
“On the fly thinking.  I respect that.”  Haylen patted her back, “And thanks for keeping your promise, Lastimosa.”  
                She gave her a soft smile and scampered off into the field.  
“’Promise?’”  Danse looked confused.  
“To keep you and Rhys alive.”  Liera raised her chin to EV, “Was she asking about what I think she was asking about?”  
“Yes.”  
“What’s that?” Danse asked.  
“Oh, nothing…EV, I need my Omnikit.”  
                The cockpit doors opened again, and she pulled a black toolbox from the wall next to the Pilot’s chair.  
“Well, I know what it _sounded_ like.”  
                Liera opened the kit and looped her finger in the middle of a spool of black tape, “What did it _sound_ like, Paladin?”  
“Like she was inquiring about the Militia.”  
                She shrugged, and scraped the end of the tape with her fingernail, unwinding it enough to catch the tip, “And if she was?”  
“I’d seriously question her loyalty to the Brotherhood.”  
                Liera huffed, and handed him the tape, “Hold this.  Keep the start stuck to your finger, it’s a pain in the ass to find it again.”  
                He eyed it curiously, “Electrical tape?”  
“Yep.” She rolled her sleeve up, and held her cleaved elbow out towards him, “For when gauze just can’t get the job done.”  
“Why didn’t you do this earlier?” He stuck the end to her arm, and wound the spool around it.  
“Honestly, I forgot I had it until I opened my kit to make sure my tools were still inside.”  
                He looked at her in disbelief, “Are you kidding me?”  
“Nope.”  
“And EV?  Did you ‘forget,’ too?”  
“Hey, only I get to reprimand her.” Liera growled.  
“I was preoccupied stabilizing a patient who fell 18 meters and submersed themselves underwater for an extended period of time, Paladin Danse.” EV’s cockpit doors locked, “Reviewing my inventory was the last item of priority, considering.”  
                Danse lowered his voice, “Understood.”  
“Speaking of priority…” Liera pulled her elbow back, and took the tape from Danse, “Are you going to tell Maxson?”  
“About the rift?”  
                She gave him a wordless nod.  
“Should I?”  
“I’d never ask you to omit information from a report.”  
“That’s not what I asked.”  
                Liera’s brow pinched, “Maxson and Nora seem close.  I know you trust _him_ , but…do you trust _her?”_  
“No.” He answered without hesitation, “Not by a long shot.”  
“Neither do I.  I think it’s better we keep this between us and see how deep she digs her hole.”  
“Then that’s what we’ll do.”  
“Alright.  And thanks for covering me back there…The less people we get involved in this, the better.  I don’t think Rhys could handle keeping secrets from Maxson.”  
“He doesn’t know Maxson like I do.” Danse sighed, “I’m as loyal as they come, but even I know he can be short-sighted in light of new discoveries, and perhaps a little too quick on the trigger.  The _Prydwen_ being here is a testament to that.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“My team and I reported our findings on the Institute and the Super Mutants during our tour, right before we ended up in Cambridge.  You and EV showing up was the final straw…And you know the rest.  Still, I don’t know if it was necessary on his part…I guess we’ll find out, given the time.”  
“Hmph, time.”  She rubbed her temples, “A fickle thing, isn’t it?”  
“Apparently…” He shook his head, “Look, if we’re going to keep this information between us and put my career on the line, I need something from you.  From _both_ of you.”  
                Liera swallowed, and braced herself.  
_“Well, this conversation took a turn for the worst.”  
_                 She rubbed the back of her neck, “And what’s that?”  
“No more secrets between us.”  He crossed his arms, leaning his shoulder on EV, “I saw a lot in there.  Your helmet records _everything._   The amount of data, analytics…I didn’t realize the depth of a Titan’s capabilities.  And-“  
“Danse.” Liera gripped his arm, “You have my word.  You might not like everything I have to say, but I’ll tell you.  Not here, though.” _  
_ “Alright.”  He smiled, “One question, if you’ll humor me.”  
“Shoot.”  
“That stuff on EV’s screen…Do you see all of that, too?”  
                Liera nodded, “I do.”  
“How do you process all of it?  There’s so much, all at once.”  
“Training.” Her face fell, “Honestly, that’s why most of us wear our helmets all the time.  We’re conditioned for years to take advantage of everything a Titan has to offer.  Without my helmet, looking through my own eyes…It feels like I’m flying blind.”  She shifted, “There’s a stigma towards Pilots for that very reason.  It’s a tragic irony, honestly.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“We sacrifice our humanity to defend the future of humanity.” She smirked, “Seems to be the trend in this war…Fighting for the ‘future of mankind.’  Everyone thinks they have the best plan for us, eh?  The IMC.  This… _Enclave._   The Brotherhood.”  
“The Militia.” Danse sneered.  
“You say that, but we’ve _asked_ ‘humanity’ what future it wants.  Has the Brotherhood?”  
                He paused, and his shoulders grew stiff.  The question seemed to bother him, and together, they sat in a long silence.  
                Lancer Rico jogged to their side, saving them from furthering the awkward conversation.  
“Vertibird is standing by, sir.”  He saluted.  
“Rodger that.” Danse returned the gesture, “Let’s go.  Can’t keep them waiting.”  
“Yep…” Liera tucked the small black kit under her arm, “EV, help them where you can and head back to the airport when they’re done.”  
“Affirmative.  Enabling long-ranged communications.  Shall I reenable power preservation?”  
“That would be a good idea…I’ll be in touch.”  
“Take care of yourself, Pilot.  I’m glad you made it out alive.”  
“Me too, girl…”  She put her hand on the armor plate next to EV’s optical hub, “Thanks for everything…I don’t know what I’d do without you.”  
“You will never have to find out, Lastimosa.”  
                The lens blinked, and the light shining on Liera illuminated her reflection in the glass, “I know.” _  
_                 Liera pulled the same tether she’d linked to before, and plugged it in the back of her helmet.  
“Hey, you aren’t doing that…thing, you did before, are you?  The thing that almost killed you?”  
“No…”  She tied her shemagh into a sling, cradling her arm, “EV…turn it off.”  
“Affirmative.”  EV responded coldly.  
                Liera’s shoulders slumped forward, and her arm went limp.  She forced herself to straighten her back, straining from the weight of the powerless prosthetic that now hung lifelessly from her shoulders.  
“Why would you…”  
“Having someone arc your nerve endings together while they’re firing hurts like hell.  Hardwiring is the only mechanism that can turn my prosthetics off.  She can turn it back on wirelessly when I’m done.”  With her free hand, she unsnapped the tether, “Oh, and don’t think I didn’t see you eyeing up EV.  Don’t get any ideas.”  
“Won’t trade me for a suit of Power Armor?”  
“Hah!” She wagged her finger at him as they walked towards the Vertibird, “Not even 10.”  
                He shrugged, “Worth a shot.  I guess I’ll just have to build another suit.”  
“Build one?  You built the last one?”  
                He arched a brow at her, “Why do you seem so surprised?”  
“EV gave you an ‘Average,’ technological qualification.  Guess she was wrong.”  
“Is that so?” He put his fists on his hips and turned to EV, “Thanks for that.”  
                EV gave him a thumbs up, and her shutter blinked innocently.

…

                Danse gripped his harness as the Vertibird lifted off the ground.  Liera sat across from him, silently looking out the window with her visor open.   
                His neck rolled, and he watched the view with her.  
“How you holding up?”  
                He could barely make sense of anything they’d heard, and could only imagine the things running through her mind.  
“I’m not.” She admitted, “Things are lining up a little too precisely.  From an ‘error’ my father made on my deployment file to the undeniable parallels in some people I’ve encountered so far, I’m starting to wonder if this was a setup.”  
“Parallels?”  
                Liera held up a finger, and typed something on her wrist computer.  She flipped it to show him a message.  
“Open mic.  Closed channel would look suspicious.”  
                He nodded, and leaned back in his seat.  
“We taking bets on the clean-up costs?”  Lancer Rico joked from the cockpit.  
“I’ll let you know when they foot me the bill.” Liera scoured.  
“Nah, I don’t think so.  Everyone’s singing your song and praise onboard the _Prydwen._   You’re the soldier who saved Paladin Danse, now, Initiate.”  
“Great.”  
“And I’m the one who tripped and fell off a building, right?” Danse crossed his arms.  
“Ingram and Quinlan had a few words about it.” Rico laughed, “Teagan tried to defend you, for what it’s worth.”  
“To no avail, I’d imagine.”  
“You’d be correct.”  
                Liera yawned, “I don’t want song or praise.  I want a shower, dry clothes, and some peace and quiet…”  
“From what I hear, Maxson’s ready to give you whatever you want.”  
“Maxson?” She scoffed, “I’ll believe that when I see it.”  
“You don’t think he’s appreciative towards what you’re doing for us?” Danse asked.  
“I got blamed for the damage at the Airport.  Reprimanded for what I did to fix EV.  Treated like a prisoner for being more technologically advanced.” She frowned, “And now I’m going to get blamed for what happened at Fort Strong, whether or not I rescued a Paladin…Besides, it’ll be my word against Essen’s.  Who do you think Maxson will believe?”  
                Putting his wounded pride aside, he kept trying to null her doubt.  
“Me.  He’ll believe me, and what I saw.”  
“And what do you think you _saw?_ ”  
                Danse shifted, “We had a lot thrown at us back there.  Our op could have ended in disaster, but you kept your cool and handled it like a soldier… _that’s_ what I saw.”  
“Did I?  I could have taken the grenadier out, but I didn’t because I knew I could outrun the missile.  I _didn’t_ know Essen was looping back around.  I saw the Mutants come through the door behind you, and I thought you were going to die.”  She kept staring out of the window as the Vertibird shook from turbulence, “I chose who lived and who died. I don’t have any regrets, and it’s not a decision I’m unfamiliar with…but that doesn’t make it easier to make.”  
“Liera.” He cut her off, “I don’t need to see your service record to know that you’ve seen plenty of death in your lifetime.  And I know we’ve been through a lot together, but if there came a time where you had to choose between me and what’s best for the Brotherhood…I hope you wouldn’t let a casualty stop you from making the right choice.”  
“Do you really think that you, Paladin Danse, would be chalked up to just another casualty?” She bore into him then, “The way these people look at you, salute you…Hell, even Maxson.  It’s what I saw whenever a new Pilot shook Major Anderson’s hand.  It was in the smiles of civilians when they heard a broadcast from our Commander-in-Chief.  It’s the whispers from the mouths of Milita recruits when my dad walked by.  You’re a symbol of hope to everyone here.”  
                He grinned, “’Everyone, you say?’”  
                That forced a smile on her, “Yeah.  Everyone.”  
                They unbuckled their seatbelts, and waited for the doors to open as the Vertibird docked.  
                When they did, Kells saluted them.  Liera did the same, something that excited Danse every time he saw it.  She stepped off the Vertibird, and shielded her face from the engine vent.  
“Uhm…” Rico turned in the cockpit, “Sorry I brought that up.  I was just trying to make light conversation.  I should’ve known it would be a sore spot.”  
“No apologies necessary, Lancer.”  He sighed, “She’s just…got a lot on her mind right now.”

…

                Liera waited for Danse to speak first.  
“Permission to come aboard, sir?”  
“Permission granted.  Welcome back, Paladin.” The dark-skinned man shook his hand, and helped him out of the Vertibird, “Allow me to be the first to congratulate you on a successful mission.”  He looked at Liera from under the brim of his Brotherhood-branded Captain’s hat, “And is this the promising recruit our crew won’t stop talking about?”  
“Initiate Lastimosa, reporting for duty.  Captain Kells, I presume?”  Liera extended a handshake.  
                He accepted it eagerly, “That’s me, and it’s my job to know everything about this crew.  Accepting outsiders like yourself has proven disastrous in the past.”  
_“I seriously doubt you’ve accepted an outsider like me before.”  
_ “Sorry to disappoint you.  The Militia was running a little low on Brotherhood-bred soldiers when they sent me light years away…”  
“Your sarcasm is unappreciated.  Still, soldiers are indeed a rarity, which is precisely why I personally insist on scrutinizing every recruit who boards this vessel.”  He beckoned them to follow with a nod, and they walked along the Flight Deck, “Paladin Danse and the rest of his team seem to think you'll make a fine addition to the Brotherhood.  You might expect an endorsement like that to grant you a great deal of latitude with us, but let me make one thing clear…The Brotherhood of Steel has traveled to the Commonwealth with a specific goal in mind.  As the Captain of this vessel, I won't allow anyone to jeopardize our mission no matter how valuable they think they are, or how inflated their ego may become after being put on a high pedestal. I need you one hundred percent committed at all times. Nothing less will do.  Understood?”  
                Liera shot him a look, “Aye-aye, Captain...”  
“Good.”  He looked at Danse, “Your orders are to proceed to Medical for evaluation.  Afterwards, you are to report to Elder Maxson.”  
“Yes, Sir.” _  
_ “Now, go get yourselves cleaned up.” Kells turned his back to them, “You’re getting blood all over my Flight Deck.  Dismissed.”  
                Liera’s fists tightened at her sides, “I’ll ask someone to wipe it up once they get the mop handle out of your-“  
“Let’s go, Initiate.”  He patted her back with both hands, and urged her forward.  
                She scowled and began walking ahead of him.  
_“Captain Kells, huh? Dickhead.”  
  
_

…

               

                The Mess Hall was empty, as all of the usual inhabitants were being put to work cleaning up Fort Strong.  Liera took her helmet off, and hung it on her hip.  She ran her fingers through her short hair, fluffing it up and detaching it from her skull.  
_“Nathan Black.”  
_                 The voice in the recording was stuck in her mind.  It wouldn’t leave her alone, and kept tugging at her consciousness.  She almost ran into Danse, who’d stopped in front of the door to swipe his holotags.  He walked into the room first, and threw them on his bed.  Liera stood in front of the table, and unstrapped her jump kit.  
_“How did he know dad?”  
_                 She tossed the armor from her arms in the crate, and bent over to get her knee guards.  
_“And mom…She was related to Dr. Hammond.  Nora.  How?”  
_                 Liera undid the Velcro on her outer utility vest and took her working arm out.  She let her prosthetic fall from its sling, and it landed on the table with a heavy clank.  The other hole of the vest slipped from under it, and she remained bent at an awkward angle.  
_“Not to mention the timeline…Major Anderson? Talking with Dr. Hammond?  How is that even possible?”  
_                 She pulled the heavy Kevlar vest off in a similar fashion, and it topped the growing pile.  
_“The original holotapes…It was a collection of news entries throughout history.  That would explain why I only remember hearing the one…”  
_                 She reached behind her to rip the battery pack from her spine.  
_“I need answers…”  
_                 She pulled on the zipper of her jumpsuit, and shrugged it down around her waist.  
_“I need a cigarette.”  
_                 She looked over to her nightstand, and the lighter and pack were missing.  
_“What the hell?”  
_                 A familiar grinding noise came from behind her.  
                Danse had a cigarette hanging from his mouth, and the lighter blazed between his fingers.  
“Didn’t see that coming.  Especially from someone who’s having trouble breathing…”  
                He puffed out a trail of smoke and coughed, “You don’t make it through years in the military without picking up a few bad habits and making poor decisions.”

…

                Her chest was bruised.  The white tank top she wore was drenched with stains lining the neckline.  The left side of her face was lost to blood splatter, and the wound on her head was the epicenter, and still…  
_“She’s beautiful.”  
_                 She ripped her wet tank top over her shoulders, and tossed it at the hamper.  
“For the love of-“ He looked away, shielding his eyes.  
“Oh, please.  It’s nothing you haven’t seen before in Medical.”  
                She plucked the cigarette from his fingers, and took a puff.  
                Liera’s jumpsuit hung at her waist, the curved lining of her undershorts poking just above the dangling sleeves.  Her black sports bra clung to her skin, rigid with muscles highlighted by a dewy shine.  
                He swallowed hard, and took the cigarette back when she handed it to him.  
“We’ll review that holotape after we get settled in.  Patching my arm up has to be first priority.” She nodded to the black box she pilfered from EV, “That’s what _that’s_ for.”  
                Liera opened her duffle and began digging around.  
                Danse hit the cigarette, “I can help you, if you want.”  
            Her spinal implant shimmered in the dim light.  It traced the whole of her spine, like a metal blueprint of the vertebrae underneath.  Thin lines connected to two circles that marked each side of her hips, two in the small of her back, and another pair behind each shoulder.  The points on the left glowed purple, and the right side was muted.

 _“That can’t be good.”_  
                Liera used her sleeve to wipe her face off, “Help would be nice.”  
                She sat down in front of him, and slipped on an olive, padded vest that looked to be the top half of a uniform.  It was perfectly tailored to hug her curves with decorative stitching, and a bright silver zipper shot up the middle.  Two zippers lined where her collar bones would be.  The high neck hit her chin.  
“Can’t get a shower till this stupid arm is fixed.  Go on ahead if you want.”  
“I will after I’m done with this.” He waved his hand, “Need to get it out of my system before I see Cade.”  
“Derelict.”  
                The tip of his cigarette burned hot, and he ignored his better judgement to put it out.  
_“It’s been one hell of a day.”_

…

 _  
_                 Liera splashed water on her face, and rubbed it clean.  The corrupted remnants trickled through her fingertips, painting the bathroom sink all sorts of colors with the spillage.  She massaged the back of her neck, brushing against the makeshift sling.  
_“Where’s Bish when I need him?”  
_                 She frowned at her arm.  
_“Working on getting GalaxyNet up and running, probably…”  
_                 She imagined what Radiance, the city that harbored the Militia’s headquarters on Planet Harmony, was like right now.  How CINCFRONT Graves was handling the ambush.  What Briggs was planning.  How pissed off she must be that her Marauders were missing.  
_“She can’t be half as pissed off as I am that I can’t help.”  
_                 All around, it seemed like poor timing for a solo reconnaissance mission.  
                She sighed, and patted herself dry with a towel.  The wound on her head had healed, but it was infected and needed treatment sooner than later.  
_“That’s gonna scar.”  
_                 Liera shook her head, and left the bathroom.  The main room was cloudy from the hot shower that made her jealous.  
_“Must be nice, having all your body parts in tact…”  
_                 She unlatched the locks of her kit, and lay her heavy arm flush against the table’s surface.               
                Her helmet sat on the corner, aimed at her chair.  
“Alright EV.  Lay it on me.”  
“Step 1: Remove Boreum Alloy plating from the damaged location.”  
                Struggling to function with one hand, she used her teeth to dislodge the attached bit of her Omnihealer, swapping it for the one she needed.  She hooked the magnetized tip to the bolt on her elbow.  
                A knock came from the door, and she growled at the interruption.  
“Danse?” She called, “A little tied up right now!”  
“Coming!”  
                The faucet in the shower squeaked, and the inner curtain slid open.

…

                Danse hung his wet towel on the bar in the middle of the two curtains, and zipped his new jumpsuit to the top.  
_“Of course Maxson would want to see me.  Why would I want to utilize some down time?”  
_                 Another knock came from the door, harder than the last.  
“I’m coming!” He yelled again, pushing the outermost curtain against the wall.  
                A muffled response came from behind the door, but a buzzing sound drowned it from the middle of the room.  Liera was busy operating a tool that looked like something out of a comic he read.  
“Gonna answer it?”  The narrow part of the tool impaled her elbow, and it began spinning as she pulled the trigger.  
                Danse lazily walked to the door, “I really don’t want to.”  
                She plucked a released bolt from her arm and put it to the side, “I don’t want you to, either.”  
                He sighed and opened the door, greeted by a man he’d seen once or twice in the Hall.  
“Evening, Paladin Danse.  Sorry for disturbing-“  
                Another buzzing sound interrupted the man.  Danse pinched the bridge of his nose, and turned to Liera, “Can you hold on for a second?”  
                She shot him an irritated look, “Yeah, sure.  You go ahead and stand there with two functioning arms.  No rush.”  
                He rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the man, who gawked at the science project behind him.  
“Soldier.” Danse barked.  
                He jumped, “Uh-yeah-uh-Proctor Teagan sent me to collect any gear that needs cleaned.  I guess Lancer Rico tipped him off that he’s gonna have a big job to fill.”  
“I’ll take it myself.” Liera leaned back in her chair, “Sensitive stuff.  Militia property.  Thanks anyway.”  
“I’m under orders from Proctor Teagan himself, ma’am.”  
“Oh, okay.  I’m assuming Proctor Teagan trained you how to handle a photovoltaic battery system, then?”  
“Uhm…”  
“Or an ion-shifting vortex grenade?”  
“I…”  
“And a jump kit thruster propulsion unit, right?”  
“Well, no…”  
“I’ll take it myself and oversee the cleaning.” Liera snapped, “He’s tampered with my shit without my supervision before.  Could’ve blown this whole damn ship up.”  
                Danse blinked, and silently apologized for her hostility, “I’ll see to it Teagan gets the equipment.”  
“But-“  
                Danse shut the door in his face, “You could’ve gone easy on the poor kid.”  
                Liera lifted her arm and bent it, her elbow aligned with her eyes.  He saw the bolt she was aiming for, and felt bad when she kept missing.  She leaned forward, trying to curve her head around it.  
“I’ve got more important things to worry about than his hurt feelings.”  
“Here…” He guided the strange drill to its mark, and lined the bit with the line in the bolt.  
                Without a word, she held the trigger down.  The bolt fell out, and Danse caught it for her.  
“I _said_ I’d help you.”  
                She glared at him, “Who knows how long Maxson wants you for?  This could take hours…I’d rather start now.”  
                She picked up what looked like a flathead screwdriver, and slid the tip under the cleaved plate.  Her thigh hit the table, causing the loose screws to roll off the edges.  
“Jesus fucking…”  The palm of her hand met her forehead, the screwdriver sticking out of her fist.  
                Danse picked up the fallen pieces, and lined them up with the heads facing down.  
“Thanks…” She was trained on the drill sitting on the table, “I was hoping to _finish_ by the time you got back.”  
“More Militia secrets?” He sat down, and held out his hand.  
                She gave him the screwdriver, “More like a matter of hurt pride...Plate needs pried off.  Don’t be scared to put some force behind it.”  
                Danse swallowed as he cupped her arm just above her elbow, and the flathead went under the plate.  He pushed down, and her other hand gripped the edge of the table.  The damaged plate came off, and he put it to the side.  
“I usually have someone else fix me up when I’m due for maintenance…”  
“It’s a shame you can’t just pump some Stim into it and call it a day, huh?”  
                Her brows creased, “Yeah…Yeah, it is.”  
“At least you were smart enough to bring this with you when you were deployed.” He nodded to the case with random bits, “Whatever this device is.”  
“Bionic Omnihealer.  Our company designed it after we pushed out the first line of these cybernetics.  ‘All-purpose tool, for all of your biocybernetic needs…’”  She picked up the cleaved plate, “This is the same stuff EV’s made out of.  That Mutant shouldn’t have been able to damage it.”  
“Mutants are a byproduct of a weaponized bioweapon.  Their physical capabilities are endless.  You’re lucky it only cut it _that_ deep.”  
“You’d know better than I would.”  
                A rigid, black dome was exposed under the plate.  That too, was cracked. _  
_ “EV, what’s next?” She asked.  
“Step 2: Retrieve soldering materials from Bionics Kit and mend the plating gap.  It will need time to cool before the next step can be achieved.”  
                Liera nodded to the kit, “Tiny cube of metal.  Should be near the nanocarbon mesh that looks like a tube of hexagons.”  
                Danse rummaged around the case until he found it.  It was a brilliant silver, with lines of red and orange reflecting through the grain.  The spool of palm-sized mesh was next to it, banded in place.  
                He put them next to her, and looked at the Omnihealer, “How do I use it?”  
“You don’t.” She put the metal cube in the plate , “I don’t need any more damage than what’s already been done.”  
“I know how to solder.” He scoffed, “And follow directions.”  
“Oh, please…”  
“I modified that suit of Power Armor by myself for months.  I put the infrared scrubbers in once I found a working circuit board.”  
“You did?”  
“When we found it, it was just a statue of rusted parts.  After some restoring and extraordinary luck, I had a full suit of X-01 gear.”  
_“All that hard work, sunk to the bottom of the ocean…”_  
                Liera rubbed her chin, “So, you have a background in robotics?”  
“I’m not saying I’m ready to reprogram a whole Titan, but I’ve put my fair share of hours in the Power Armor Bay.”  
                She huffed, “Guess I should’ve known, as much as you read that damn manual…”  
“Hey, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but reading material is almost nonexistent.” He smirked, “You can only read publicized Brotherhood reports so many times.”  
“You’ve gotta point.” She smiled, “Aright, Specialist Danse.  Have at it.”

…

                Liera spent the next half hour showing him how to use the Omnihealer.  He was a quick learner, and eager to get started.  She gave him the protective goggles packed in the kit, and let him get to work.  
                He held the tip of the laser at the perfect angle, and had an innate knowledge of when to pull back and let the metal spread.  She’d even expected him to cough or at least pull away from the smell, but he was completely unbothered.  
                When the cube melted and began to cool, he set the tool facing up and away from the table.  Danse hurriedly unwound the nanocarbon mesh, lining it up with the softening solder with the supplied clamps.  He lowered it carefully, and exhaled his breath to keep his hands steady.  
_“I shouldn’t enjoy watching him do this so much.”  
_                 She did her best to push back the recording they heard, and the questions she had.  Her priority had to be getting her arm fixed, and she made herself enjoy any pleasantries along the way…like watching Danse work in excellence.  
“There.” He pushed the goggles to his forehead, “EV, what’s the cooling time?”  
“Approximately 60 minutes, Paladin Danse.”  
                Liera slumped in her chair, “Sounds like enough time for you to go see what Maxson wants.”  
“And Cade.  He’s probably wondering where I am.”  
                She shrugged, “Performing a surgery outside his expertise?”  
“I’ll make sure to tell him that.” Danse grinned and put the goggles on the table, “I can drop your gear off to Teagan on my way, if you want.  He can get to work on it sooner.”  
                She mauled over the offer, looking at the crate in dismay.  
“And if he missteps?”  
“Hm…EV, can you tell me what to take out that would prove a health risk?”  
“Yes, Paladin.  Rotate the helmet towards the crate, and I will do my best to assist you.”  
“Problem solved.” Danse smiled, “Need anything else before I leave?”  
“My cigarettes and some water would be great.”  
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”  
“Maybe too much.”  She laughed, “Well, you should get going.”  
                She put a foot on the edge of the table and rocked her chair backwards, covering her mouth as she yawned, “You know where I’ll be.”

…

                Maxson was alone on the Command Deck.  Danse stood attention, ears still ringing from the lecture Cade had given him.  
“Knights, close the door, please.”  Maxson ran his hand through his hair.  
“Yes, sir.”  The Knights standing watch pulled the sliding door, giving the two Officers some privacy.  
“How are you feeling?” Maxson took his coat off, and hung it on the back of a chair.  
                Danse looked at it nervously, “I’m as good as new, just sore.  I was treated by Liera and EV on the field.”  
“That is…good to hear.”  He took two glasses from a shelf, and put them at each chair on a small table, “Sit with me.”  
                Maxson began unscrewing a bottle from a cabinet, and filled the glasses half-way.  The golden liquid gurgled in the cup.  
“What is it?” Danse asked, sitting down.  
“Whiskey.” He capped the bottle, “Have a drink.”  
“Elder-“  
“Please, Saul.” He sat down across from him, and slung an arm over the chair.  
                Maxson held up his glass, “Call me Arthur.  For old time’s sake.”  
                Danse considered his words, and raised the glass of his own for cheers, “For old time’s sake, then.”  
                The two men drank, and relaxed in their seats.  
“Heard you had a close call out there.”  
“It was a rough time for all of us.” Danse swirled the rusty liquid, “We lost a lot of good soldiers today.”  
“We did.  And we will lose more before our job is done, here in the Commonwealth.  It is an unfortunate truth, but a truth nonetheless.  That brings us to why I asked to speak with you today…Aside from catching up, of course.”  
                Maxson exhaled, and stroked his beard.  
“Anything you need, Arthur.  That’s what I’m here for.” Danse tipped his cup at him, and took another sip.  
“It seems I’ve misjudged the Pilot.”  Maxson leaned his elbows on the table, “I received a detailed transcript from the Titan on my terminal just before your arrival.  It contained a full status report of your health, the means of which you were treated, and a few other things I found interesting.”  
“Such as?”  
“Combat data.  How Liera and her machine avoided the use of heavy explosives to preserve the buildings. Of Lastimosa taking a Mutant sniper down with her bare hands in order to preserve the body for research…” He chuckled, “A visitor from outer space.  A war that spans galaxies…What do you make of all this?”  
“I think we’re involved in their conflict, whether we like it or not…And I think Nora knows a lot more than she’s letting on.”  
                He knew she was, but wondered what Maxson had to say about it.  
“Yes, these are all things we can agree on.”  
“What’s she doing here?” Danse’s brows pulled together, “After you sent that Vertibird to pick her up from Sanctuary, I expected her to stay in the Capital.  And then she just shows up out of nowhere…She’s using us to find her son, she doesn’t care about what we’re fighting for.”  
                Maxson swallowed words that Danse would assume to be harsh, “I wasn’t naïve to her motives when I allowed her onboard the _Prydwen_ …Or when I sent her back to the Commonwealth under my direct order.”  
“She operates under you?”  Danse rubbed his chin, “Those dead Mutants at the Satellite Array?”  
“That was her.”  He cleared his throat, “When she emerged from Vault 111, she was reunited with her Mr. Handy, Codsworth.  They ventured south and found Paladin Brandis, where she stayed in the bunker with him for some time…How long, he didn’t say.  That’s _one_ part of her story she left out.”  He took another sip of his drink, “When we met, she told me about the IMC and the Core System Planets that are supposedly on every side of Earth.  When I asked her why they’ve failed to make contact with us, she couldn’t answer…”  
                Danse watched him circle the rim of his glass with his finger.  
“She never mentioned the Outer Colonies…or the ‘Frontier,’ as Lastimosa calls them.”  
                Danse grunted, “Makes sense.  We’ve discovered her family owned the companies that essentially started the Great War, _and_ created the IMC.  She should be marked the enemy.  What value does she offer us?”  
“Should a child pay for the crimes of their parents?” Maxson frowned, “But to answer your question…It’s more of a fascination, really.  Every day, I send our troops to scour the Commonwealth for pre-war artifacts, technological advantages, and bits of history.  Then comes Nora Black, a walking, breathing relic of the past, ready to share her wisdom and knowledge with anyone who’d listen.”  He drank more, “So when you ask me what value she holds for ‘us,’ now that she’s disclosed the IMC’s weaknesses and tactics to me, I would say very little.  But if you’d ask what value she holds for ‘me,’ well, my answer would be quite the opposite.”  
_“Their weaknesses? Tactics?  She wants to see them dismantled?”_  
                Danse put his glass on the table, “Are you saying you…Care for her?”  
“To an extent.  She has agreed to carry on the Maxson line should I help her locate her son.  The Brotherhood is here for a reason, and that reason coincides with her terms.  I get an heir, she finds her child, and we all live as one, happy family.” Maxson downed the rest of his drink, “If only it were so simple…”  
                The idea made Danse sick to his stomach.  
_“She’s evil.  The people who created her were evil.  He’d let her just…use him?  To use her?  That can’t be love…that’s a business arrangement…Just like her first marriage, apparently.”_  
“You and the Pilot seem close.”  Maxson was watching him, “Does she… _fascinate_ , you?”  
“We’ve learned a lot from each other.” Danse drank more of the numbing liquor, and felt his face burn, “I assure you, our relationship is strictly professional.  As her commanding officer, I would never compromise that.”  
“You’re an honorable man who follows the rules.  I could ask for no better soldier on this ship.”  He leaned up, “Technically, she operates outside of our jurisdiction.  I’m not asking because I’d frown upon any pursuits. But I feel the need to warn you that I’m going to offer her a promotion.”  
                Danse shifted uncomfortably, “Promotion, you say?”  
“If we are going to retain the highest amount of human life in the battles to come, we need her to prepare us for the IMC and help us take on the Institute.”  He slung an elbow over the back of his chair, “Speaking of Lastimosa…Rhys’s latest report includes an underground bunker attached to the warhead silo.  Is it true she was trapped inside for about 10 minutes?”  
“Yes, it is.  There was nothing in there, save for on old console Quinlan could scrap for parts and a bunch of Ghouls.”  
“Hm…” Maxson pinched his beard, “That seems odd, to say the least.  Do you trust her word?”  
“I do.”  
“Keep an eye on her.” He frowned, “I feel a sense of prying whenever she’s around.”  
                It felt wrong not telling Maxson the truth, but there was no turning back now.  And the lying wouldn’t stop at withholding the scenes they witnessed under Fort Strong.  He couldn’t tell him about the surveillance capabilities he saw, and probably wasn’t meant to see, while being in EV’s cockpit.  
“Do you disagree?”  Maxson laced his fingers together, resting his elbow on is knee.  
                He didn’t, and it wasn’t until recently he knew why.  
“She’s been nothing but upfront and honest about her intentions since the day we met her.  That’s more than we can say for _most_ outsiders.”  
_“Like Nora.”_  
                He did his best to hide his scowl, but failed.  
“I see.” Maxson’s face hardened, as if he saw right through Danse’s implication, “Still, I’m asking for detailed reports on her development.  I am sorry to add more to your duties, but having her unchecked is a risk I simply can’t afford.”  
“Will do.”  
“Excellent.” Maxson smiled, and shrugged his coat around his shoulders, “I will be holding an address tonight.  Please make sure to bring her with you.”  
“Sure thing.” _  
_                 Maxson turned to the windows of the _Prydwen,_ “It was a pleasure speaking with you, Danse.  You’re the closest person to a friend I have these days.”  He smirked, “Try not to die out there.”  
                Danse finished his drink, and stood to dismiss himself.  
“Always.”

…

“Pilot, I have constructed the audio files on the holotape to the best of my ability.  Shall I commence playing the clips in the sequential order they were uploaded?”  
                Liera pinched both sides of the newly cooled shell in her arm.  The top of the dome puckered, and it popped out of place as she removed it.  
“No.  We should wait for Danse to get back.”  
“I have arrived at the airport.  If you can make it down here, I’d be happy to assist in order to accelerate the process.”  
“I don’t think your medical tools can fix this one, EV…It’s pretty bad.”  
                EV paused, “Perhaps now is a good time to discuss a strange reading I found when treating Paladin Danse, then.”  
                Liera looked around, “Yeah, probably.  Don’t know how much longer he’ll be gone.  What did you find?”  
“Do you remember the notes we took when the BCI Link was activated?”  
“’Abnormal energy readings. Residual traces of Power Armor probable cause.’  Yeah, I remember.”  
“I believe it to be something different.  His biology is strange.  It is quite similar to the synthetic nerves in your prosthetics.  I have never encountered such a species.”  
                Liera gulped, “A…A species?  What?”  
“Paladin Danse does not match the genetic code of most humans.  His physiology is more on par with a Simulacrum.”  
“Uhm…I think your sensors busted, EV.  Remind me to look in to that.”  
“All systems fully operational, save for battery supplies.  I will recharge within the early morning hours.”  EV mumbled, “Further investigation into Danse’s medical history is recommended.”  
“Sure, I’ll get right on that.  Right after I figure out how Anderson traveled through time, along with all the IMC operatives we saw in the rift.”  
“In light of this afternoon, I understand how this revelation could feel overwhelming.  Please do not disclose this information to anyone else, as it may cause civil unrest within the Brotherhood.”  
“Uh…right.”  
                Liera squinted at the helmet, worried about the mental state of her Titan.  
_“She hasn’t had a glitch like this since the first week of our pairing...”  
_                 The lock activated on the door, and a quiet beep came from the inside.  Danse walked in, his posture toggling between exhausted and energized.  
“There he is.” She joked, “Was about to start without you.”  
                He lifted his tired eyes, “Teagan had a line, Cade talked forever, and Maxson wanted to catch up.  With alcohol.”  
                She sighed, “Well, looks like I’ll be finishing this on my own, then.”  
“It was only a glass of whiskey.  I’ll be fine.”  
“You’ll understand why I don’t want you working on my nervous system after drinking, right?”  
“Do you trust me?”  
                Liera raised a brow, “Don’t start that with me.”  
“Do you?”  
“Obviously.”  
“Alright, then.” He sat down at the chair next to her arm, “EV, what’s next?”

…

  
                An intricate bundle of metal wires, black and woven together waited underneath the cover he previously soldered.  
“Start up the indicators.”  Liera leaned her chin on her palm.  
                Pulses of light ran through them at intervals, passing around a darkened mound of broken ends.  
_“This looks like an exact copy of the muscle diagrams in Cade’s office.”  
_                 He was enthralled by the alien technology, and bent in closer.  
“Hey.” Liera warned, “Don’t get weird.”  
“Sorry.” He backed away, “How do we fix it?”  
                The helmet flickered next to them, “Step 1: Locate the broken optical fibers.  Step 2: Strip the broken optical fibers of polymer coating.  Step 3: Cleave the broken ends of compromised optical fibers at a 90-degree angle.  Step 4: Fusion splice the freshly cleaved ends with Bionic Omnihealer arc tool.  Step 5: Recoat fibers with polymer coating spray.  Step 6: Coat repaired shell with polymer coating spray, and replace shell.”  
                Danse leaned back in his chair, “That all, huh?”  
“No one said it would be easy.” Liera chided.  
“I’m up for the challenge.  Especially with two experts here to guide me in the process.”  
“We’ll see about that.”  
                He put the goggles on, and picked up the Omnihealer, “You’re in good hands.”  
“You’re not…” She looked at her arm from the corner of her eye, “Freaked out by this?”  
“By what?”  
“Operating on a synthetic _arm?”_  
“No, I…” He tripped over his words trying to find the right set to describe how he felt.  
                Danse found her watching him in anticipation.  He thought it was cute how such a strong, independent soldier like herself tried to hide her insecurities about her prosthetics.  
                He smiled, “I find it quite fascinating.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know her implants are technically on the other side of her head, but the half-shaved haircut mod only had this orientation. *cries*


	22. Kingsman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Then started up King Arthur's knights,_  
>  _Indignant at this word;_  
>  _Each stamped his mailèd heel in ire,_  
>  _Each drew his trusty sword."_  
>  -"The Message" Ballad, 1881

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _"Uranium Fever," "Undecided,"_ and _"Elder Maxson's Speech"_ linked to text.

* * *

* * *

 

                its of glass hairs and tiny, rubber shavings gave a new texture to the table’s surface. With each tug of the pliers, a section of polymer coating slipped from a split end.  With every squeeze of the handle, the wire cutters snipped a clean break.  
                Danse tried to stay focused as he stripped and cut the fine threads that formed Liera’s cybernetic inner workings, but his thoughts proved distracting.  
_“Machines and beautiful women…Cutler always said I could have less boring interests.”  
_                 Then _she_ came along, the perfect combination of the two.  
_“Who am I kidding?  I can’t keep a woman around to safe my life.  Never could.”_  
                He didn’t know the rules for caring about someone the way he cared about her.  
_“It’s hard to stop something, knowing nothing about it.”_  
                It may have stemmed from almost losing each other twice, or how they’d seen each other through hardships that most people would’ve shied away from, only to realize they had much more in common than they originally thought.  
                He didn’t know what it was…just that it continued to blossom, and he was tangled in its roots.

…

 _  
_                 Liera yawned, and her eyelids fluttered.  The day seemed endless.  
_“Early morning assault on an enemy base? Check.”  
_                 The holotape recovered from Fort Strong was only inches away.  
_“Gather intel through unorthodox procedures? Check.”  
                _ She rubbed her eyes, and leaned her chin into her palm to watch Danse work.  
_“Valuable piece of equipment damaged in the crossfire? Check.”  
                _ Liera smirked.  
_“Earth’s not so different from home after all.”  
_                 She yawned again.  
_“Just gotta make it through this without faceplanting.”  
_                 A small chuckle had her perk up.  
“Gonna be able to stay awake long enough for me to finish?”  
                Liera cocked her head at Danse, “Up for debate…Coffee might help.  Music.  _Something.”_  
“What, the awkward silence doesn’t do it for you?”  
                She held in a laugh, and it eventually came breaking through, “No, no it doesn’t…I’d like to drown out the snipping of my nerves and impending doom if you mess up.”  
“No pressure, right?”  
“Heh...”  The helmet sat quietly at the opposite end of the desk, “EV, let’s see what this Diamond City Radio has to offer…That’s what it’s called, yeah?  ‘Diamond City radio?’”  
                Danse nodded, “That’s the one.”  
“Requesting frequencies…Match confirmed.”  
                Liera grimaced at the screeching of EV’s radio.  A waning sound was followed by a piano’s jingle and a man’s singing.  
  
**[“Well, I ain't kiddin', I ain't gonna quit,](https://youtu.be/NdN7CzbkfTE?t=2m24s)  
That bug's done caught me and I've been bit,  
So with a Geiger counter and a pick in my hand,  
I'll keep right on stakin' that government land.”  
  
                ** She shook her head, “Wow.  Even across the galaxies I can’t escape it.”  
“People staking land?”  
“Well, that’s a given…But no, I meant the song.”  
                Danse raised a brow over his goggles, “You’ve heard this before?”  
“Remember I told you my dad would play old music while my family and I worked on projects?”  
“I do.”  
“Different songs, but they sounded _just_ like this...”  
                It was nice to remember him fondly.  She thought back to their house in Moonbrooke, on the outskirts of the city.  How Tai sat in his chair in front of the top floor window, smoking cigars and reading the news.  
“Dad would give Jack and I the most nonchalant wave when we got home from work.  He did it every day, not even bothering to look at us.”  She snickered, “He’s definitely his own person...”  
“’Getting home from work?’  Odd way to put ‘fighting in outer space.’”  
“Nah, this was before all that…the Militia had some downtime when we won the war, and we focused our efforts on relocating the refugees.  Jack and I worked in a tent city for a year, helping people make new lives…”  
                Liera sighed.  
_“Now I’m the one ‘making a new life...’”_

 **“Uranium fever has done and got me down,  
Uranium fever is spreadin' all around!  
With a Geiger counter in my hand,  
I'm a-goin' out to stake me some government land!  
Uranium fever has done and got me down!”**  
**  
**                 He paused to look up at her, “I’m sure you miss home.”  
“I miss my friends, my family…I miss our house.  I even miss Harmony’s capital, which is something I never thought I’d say.”  
_“I just hope everyone’s okay…”_  
                A pang in her chest tore through the state of indifference she’d forced herself to live in.  
“I can’t imagine what a city looks like from where you’re from, or what music you listen to if this is considered ‘old.’” He glanced her way, “Maybe one day you can show me, if you have pictures, or…”  
                She grinned, “Curious about the Frontier, eh?”  
“Space ships, Titans, holographic displays, I mean – how could anyone _not_ be?”  He lifted his goggles up and leaned on his elbow, “Better question is: How did we forget all of that was out there?”  
“Same reason we forgot _you_ were out _here._   Fighting for your existence for about 200 years will do that to a civilization.  Makes you tunnel-focused.  Pushes anything out of your head except how to survive.”  
“You’ve asked the same question, then?”  
“I have.  And I got my answer from a man we call Barker, who’s faction operates independently of the Militia.  He’s an expert on the matter…He commands the Angel City Elites, a band of Pilots who have a more personal interest in seeking answers to mysteries within the Frontier and beyond.”  
                Danse squinted, “’Mysteries?’”  
“Aside from old structures left behind by the Original Colonists, there’s these… _ruins,_ we’ll call them.  They’re thousands of years old, maybe older, we aren’t sure.” She rolled her shoulder, “We don’t know who left them.  But their technology is what allowed the Original Colonists to shape the Frontier into what it is today.”  
“You mean like…” He whispered, “ _Ancient aliens_?”  
                Liera busted out laughing, “Hell, maybe.  Who knows?  That’s Barker’s job to find out.  Earth is my job, and when you compare the workload, I like my assignment better.”  
_“Even though that site in the Swamplands is what prompted this whole damn assignment in the first place…”  
_  
                The music ended, and faded out into a smooth voice:

  
**“Hey everyone. Travis ‘Lonely’ Miles here, bringing you the type of news you just don't hear about every day.”**

  
                Danse scoffed, “This guy…”

  
**“Word is the Cambridge Police Station now serves as a Brotherhood checkpoint.  We've all heard about the kind of firepower those guys pack. I know _I_ wouldn't want to be in their way.”**

 **  
** “Got that right…At least he’s not misconstruing information like he usually does.”  
                Liera swallowed another yawn, “Like…?”  
“I’ll explain after he’s done running his mouth.”

  
**“Speaking of firepower.  By now everyone has seen, or heard about, the giant airship that took up a position over the airport.   Shortly after, we got reports of the Brotherhood cleaning up Fort Strong, formerly occupied by some very unpleasant Super Mutants. Whatever their reasoning, I think we can all agree that fewer Super Mutants running around isn't a bad thing.”**

  
                She smirked, “Seems like the Brotherhood has quite the following…Even if you don’t like him.”  
“Wait for it.”

  
**“Not content with sitting quietly, the Brotherhood continues to make waves.  And now the issue that I _can’t_ shake, or rationalize…”**

 **  
** “Here it comes.” He groaned, “This is where he twists everything.”

**“By all appearances, the Brotherhood has constructed a giant robot. You heard me, folks. A giant robot.”**

                Liera hollered, laughing at the broadcast, “He thinks you guys built her?!”  
“I’m sure ‘delivered by the Militia,’ wasn’t his first thought…”  
“Hey, I’m not saying you guys _couldn’t_ build a giant robot.  Just not a Titan.”  
“Listen.”  
  
**“It's unknown at this time what they're planning to do with it, but it certainly doesn't sound like it's built to serve noodles, you know what I'm saying?”**

“She’s definitely _not_ built to serve noodles, guy.”  
“Shh.” Danse held a finger up.

 **“Now that they’ve taken a claim to the airport, police station, and possibly Fort Strong, one can only wonder…Do they plan on taking any _other_ pieces of the Commonwealth?  The Minutemen, our self-proclaimed ‘defenders of the Commonwealth,’ are asking the same question.”  
**  
“Who’s what now?” _  
_ “SHH.”

 **“I suppose all we can do now is assume the best, but prepare for the worst.  And while we're doing that, we can all enjoy some quality music, courtesy of Diamond City Radio. But first, a message from our sponsors.”  
**                  
  
                Liera glared at him, “Permission to speak now, _Paladin?”  
                _ Danse sighed in return.  
“Who’s these Minutemen?”  
“Ugh…” He started clipping her wires again, “The Minutemen are under the control of General Preston Garvey up north in Sanctuary.  He sends his soldiers out from place to place, lending the people of the Commonwealth a helping hand at ‘a minute’s notice.’”  
“Cheery tagline.  Doesn’t quite punch you in the face like ‘Ad Victoriam.’”  
“Their mantra might be light on the ears, but they’re a force to be reckoned with even if we _do_ outgun them.  Because of their widespread assistance, most of the outlying settlements have sworn their loyalty to the Minutemen.  Preston and his standing army control almost every farm in the Commonwealth.”  
“Huh.”  She tapped her fingers against the desk, “Sounds a lot like the Militia.”  
“But the Militia actively pursues the IMC while helping settlements…er, Colonies _,_ right?”  
“Duh.”  
“The Minutemen don’t have the firepower to approach the Institute, or any other large threat. They’re a band-aid to the whole problem…but civilians don’t see it like that.”  Danse fell into solemnness as he continued to work, “They don't realize that the Brotherhood of Steel is the Commonwealth's last hope for survival...”  
“We had an issue with the Colonists, way back when.  But the IMC kept up with their bullshit, and eventually, the civvies rallied behind the Militia…or so the story goes.  I’m sure the same thing’ll happen when the Institute does something drastic.”  
“From what my team and I have gathered, the Institute has been terrorizing the people of the Commonwealth for _years_.  But when it comes to us trying to help them, well…they've been blinded by rumors and misinformation.  We haven’t been exactly welcomed with open arms.  The situation at Graygarden highlights that.”  
“Wait, huh?”  Liera lifted her chin, “What happened at Graygarden?”  
“You remember your terms when you said you’d help us at Cambridge?  ‘Place troops at Graygarden and get me into your ranks?’”  
“Oh, that.  Yeah.”  
“Well, troops were ‘placed’ there…hence all the mutfruit.  But Preston took it as us encroaching on their territory.  Because of that, other settlements have been less willing to trade with us, which ultimately has led to a food supply shortage.”  
“Maybe Preston and his _Minutemen_ should’ve been helping Supervisor White if he was so damn worried about his ‘territory.’”  
“My thoughts exactly…”  
                Liera pursed her lips, “How long have you known about this?”  
“Proctor Teagan filled me in when I dropped your gear off.  With all that happened at Fort Strong, I didn’t want to stress you out more than you already were.”  
“…I see.  Well, thanks for that, I guess.” She leaned back, “I’m curious to see how Maxson handles the dispute.”  
“We all are.”  
                Music started in the background, less jingly than before.

 **[“First you say you do, and then you don't,](https://youtu.be/NdN7CzbkfTE?t=43m20s)  
And then you say you will, and then you won't,  
You're undecided now,  
So what are you gonna do?”  
  
**                 Danse began to squirm and fidget, things he loved to do when he got nervous, “We should talk about your second term…About you, joining our ranks officially.”  
“So much for not adding stress.”  Liera fumbled with her cigarette case, sticking one in her mouth.  
“It doesn’t have to be a _bad_ thing…”  
                She grunted, “Heh.  We’ll see about that.”  
“Maxson’s called for an audience tonight…and he requested that you come with me.”  
“Me?  A lowly ‘Initiate?’”  She flicked the lighter, “Why?”  
“…Because only an Elder can promote you _beyond_ Initiate.”  
                The tiredness that crept over her started to retreat.  
                Liera inhaled, and rested her elbow on the back of the chair, “The SRS didn’t exactly give me an outline on joining native factions when they shipped my ass off to Earth.”  
“Pilot,” EV interjected, “I’d like to voice my opinion on the matter.”  
                Liera puffed, “Go on, then.”  
“We’ve lost contact with our superiors during a mission deemed critical by CINCFRONT Graves.  It is unlikely that the SRS would frown upon allying ourselves with the Brotherhood as a means to uphold said mission.”  
“You’ve got a valid point.”  
“I usually do.”

 **“Now you want to play, and then it's no,  
And when you say you'll stay, that's when you go,  
You're undecided now,  
So what are you gonna do?”  
**  
                She scoffed and turned to Danse, “And what do _you_ think?” _  
_ “The way I see it, you've got a choice.”  He paused, as if mauling over what to say, “You could spend the rest of your stay on Earth wandering from place to place, hoping to solve whatever puzzles Nathan throws at you...Or, you could join the Brotherhood of Steel and make your mark on the world while we solve those puzzles _together_.”  
                Liera chuckled and a slight shrug lifted her shoulders, “A compelling argument…but we’ve made our ‘mark,’ already.  It’s a crater 10 feet wide and 5 feet deep, and Hell’s followed us at every turn since we crawled out of the blasted thing.”  
“But you’ve spat in Hell’s face every time it’s got too close, and I have no doubt you’ve got what it takes to keep it up.  Only difference would be you'd have the Brotherhood at your back, ready to spill its own blood to keep you alive.”  
                Just like the Militia, and the Marauders.  
                Like Ryan.  
“Yours would be the tale of a lone soldier and her Titan who came to make this land a better place. A place where people no longer have to live in fear, but instead, live in peace.  It might not be for the Frontier, but the people of the Commonwealth deserve that chance, too.”  
                An admiring gaze touched her, and a nervous smile twitched over her mouth.  Danse watched her in such reverence it almost made her uncomfortable.  
“I'm flattered that you have so much faith in me.”  
“You’ve earned that faith by your own hand.” He eyed her arm, and the mess of wires spewing out of the open slot, “Literally.”  
                She would’ve laughed if her heart hadn’t been pounding in her throat.  She’d made an impulsive offer to join the Brotherhood in an attempt to gain entry and retrieve information, and now, she faced the consequences.  
                The flame that burned the tip of her cigarette calmed her nerves, and a trail of smoke left her mouth, “I barely know anything about this planet, or the Brotherhood…It seems odd that Maxson would be willing to ignore that.”

**“I've been sitting on a fence,  
And it doesn't make much sense,  
'Cause you keep me in suspense,  
And you know it.”**

  
                Danse leaned forward on his elbows, “I honestly don't feel like there's anything else I could teach you about being a Brotherhood soldier that you don't already know.  It’s apparent from your attitude and your actions that you intend to keep our ideals close to your heart.  That’s all Maxson cares about.”  
                His uplifting words hung around her.  She watched EV’s helmet and wondered which choice was truly the best for them as a pair.  
“Inducting us into the Brotherhood could backfire…You heard that radio broadcast.  We could be a liability.”  
                Danse smirked, “Truthfully, when we met at the police station and you were placed under my sponsorship…I had some _serious_ reservations about it.”  He took a deep breath, “Despite all that, this has turned out to be a rewarding experience…On both sides, I hope.”  
“It has been.” Liera did her best to smile.  
                There was an oddity to the decision that made her sick.  It was as if by choosing to form rank within another group of soldiers, she was abandoning hope of the Militia coming to bring her home.  The last threads of her identity before coming to Earth were woven in patches that may have lost their meaning.   
“You’d have access to _all_ of our advanced military weapons…”  
                She huffed, “A man after my own heart.”  
“I’d offer you a suit of Power Armor, too, but I’m not sure what use you’d find in one.”  
“Who’s to say I’m not curious?”  
“You _did_ let me in EV’s cockpit.  I suppose it’s only fair.”  
“ _She_ let you in her cockpit.  I had nothing to do with that.”  
                Danse looked at the helmet and smiled.  
                He was getting used to EV being around, and probably had been the most adaptive out of all the members.  
_“Aside from Haylen, of course…I’m pretty sure she’d try to steal EV if she could.”  
                _ Danse turned his attention back to her, “So…What do you say?” _  
_                 Tai said something similar when they discussed her becoming a Pilot, and breaking away from the Militia Reserves.  He gave her space, let her clear her head, and decide.  
“I’ll think about it.”  
“That’s all I’m asking.” He smiled, “Take your time.”  
                She failed to share his enthusiasm.  
_“He says that like I have more than a few hours to make a decision.”_

 

…

                Danse swept the back of his hand across his forehead, clearing it of sweat.  He used an elongated needle-prod to check for more damaged wires, whistling to the music that played.  
“Paladin Danse, all damaged fiber optics have been successfully stripped and cleaved.  Please use the arc tool to proceed repairs.”  EV interrupted the tune.    
“Now for the fun part…” Liera ashed her cigarette on the ashtray, “See those tiny clamps sticking out of the kit?”  
                He retrieved a small bar with two clips at the end, “This thing?”  
“Yep.  So, what you’re gonna do is clip each end of the fibers and adjust the length between them with the bar’s crank.  Then, you have to swap the bit on the drill out for the part labeled, ‘crystal focus.’  All you do after that is point, pull the trigger, and try not to miss.”  
“Got it.”  
“Oh, and the blue button is for the safety when you’re done.  Don’t want you accidently hitting my plates with a laser.”  
“What if I want to?”  
“You know, it would be a real shame if something happened to you in your sleep.”  
                Danse laughed, “Good thing I’m a light sleeper.”  
“Try me.”  
“…I’d rather not.”  
“Smart.”  Liera held her cigarette with the filter facing out.  
                Danse turned his head slightly, “Keep sharing and you won’t have any left for yourself.”  
“Think I’d be offering if I didn’t have more stashed away?”  
“Let me guess.  Some secret compartment in EV?”  
                She nodded tiredly, and he took a puff as she held it for him.  He pulled back, keeping the cigarette in his mouth.  
“Hey! I wasn’t done with that…”  
                He shrugged at her, and swapped the bit on the drill.  
_“Asshole…”_

 

…

 _  
_                 The bright flashes of laser and soldering fibers enthralled him.  They fused instantaneously, seemingly creating a mend out of thin air.  Each time he repaired a break, an indicator light blinked down the newly formed wire in rapid succession.  
                Even through his fascination, Danse made sure to stay in proper form.  He’d been used to Ingram overseeing his operations in the Power Armor Bay, but Liera’s approval was something he sought to earn.  
_“She built EV’s chassis and her family’s company name is labeled all over the parts.”  
_                 It’d been a long time since he had any competition in the ways of engineering.  Making something from nothing was what his life had revolved around, as with many others across the wasteland that was Earth.  
                This project, though…The purely refined metals and advanced technology felt foreign to him.  There was no rust to cleanse, no dust to clear. _  
_                 But then he reminded himself of _what_ his project was.  
                A cybernetic arm, attached to a human who’d lost the arm she was born with to…something.  A battle, probably.  
_“A whole hell of a lot like Ingram.”_  
                He had a difficult time not comparing her to his friend who lost her legs, and wondered if Liera’s story was the same.  
_“Except she isn’t as forthcoming as Ingram when it comes to talking about her past.”  
_                 He silently traced Liera’s arm, and worked his way to the implants on her head.  She was too busy to notice, observing the last of Cutler’s belongings; the memories that once littered her half of the room.  He couldn’t help but look at them, too.  
_“And I understand why.”_

…

  
                They’d been in her sights since she got there.  Always in the background, a looming reminder she hadn’t been Danse’s first roommate.  She’d heard the name written on them once or twice, but as for the story attached…  
_“Everyone’s a bit dodgy when it comes to that.”  
                _ Liera looked back to the opened slot in her arm, “That’s a good sign.  The lights, I mean.”  
                She caught him staring at the tower of boxes that had yet to be displaced.  His chin snapped forward, and he continued to work. His words came as mumbles, and the cigarette wagged from the corner of his mouth, “I _did_ say you were in good hands.”  
“You do seem pretty good with those.  You know, for, uhm…”  Her eyes darted, “Handling machines.”  
“I’ve been told.”  
                Liera cleared her throat, “I’m sure.”  
“Huh?”  
“Nothing, nothing.”  
_“God, I keep making this worse.   Has it really been that long?”  
_                 She silenced herself, and refocused on the matter at hand.  Tried to, anyway.  Her curiosities on a different matter got in the way.  
                Danse was looking at the damn boxes again.  
“Wanna talk about it?”  
                A lump fell down his throat, and he kept fusing her fibers, “People keep telling me I should.”  
“Don’t you hate it when they do that?”  
“I do…”  
“Well,” She cracked her neck, “Whatever it is, I'm here to help you work through it whenever you’re ready.”  
“Don't know if _anything_ can help me work through it.”  
                The avoidance in his eyes, the slight adjustment to his posture, the tightness in his jaw…She recognized it instantly.  She’d seen it in herself more than once.  
                Liera gave him a gentle smile, “Can’t hurt to try.”  
                The quiet zap of the arc tool fired before he switched the wire in the clamp, “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”  
“At the beginning.” She offered, “We’ve got plenty of time, and you sound like you need to unload.”  
“I’m fine.”  
“That doesn’t work.  Not with me.”  
                He turned his head and scowled under his breath.  
“Throw a fit if you want, but I’ve been in that deep, dark place.  Took a small army to pull me out.”  
“Liera, it’s not just…It’s not only hard to talk about, but…” A strong breath pushed through his nose, “There are some people, to this _day_ , that won’t speak to me unless it’s mandated because of what I did.”  
                She leaned closer to him, “You think I’d judge you?”  
                He didn’t answer.  He kept his head low and continued working.  
“If you’re not ready, I understand.  But don’t think for a minute I’d ever think less of you.” Liera reached for him, and he froze, “We’ve all done things we’re not proud of out there, Danse.  Comes with the job.”  
                He lifted the goggles to his forehead and took the cigarette in his hand.  
                There was a red tinge to his eyes, and a dark pool in the middle.  The gravity of the situation hit her, and she realized that whatever happened ran deeper through him than she thought.  
“I grew up alone in the Capital Wasteland…Spent most of my childhood picking through the ruins and selling scrap.  When I was a bit older, and had a few caps to my name, I moved to Rivet City and opened a junk stand.”  He took the goggles off, and ran his fingers through his hair, “It was a settlement built inside the remains of a beached aircraft carrier…the perfect location for me to try my hand at being a merchant.”  
                Liera grinned, “I have a hard time picturing you as anything but a soldier.”  
“Clearly, I was ignoring my calling…”  His features crinkled, and he struggled as he went on, “While I was there, I met a guy named Cutler. We got along pretty well, watched each other's backs and kept each other out of trouble.”  
                His voice wavered.  
_“Sounds like Ryan and Chris…”_  
                The tale was familiar, and it tugged at her heart.  
“When the Brotherhood came through on a recruiting run, we felt like it was the best way out of our nowhere lives, so we joined up.  About a year after, we were posted to the _Prydwen.”_  
                His hands started to shake, and it made her nervous.  
“Then Cutler vanished on a scouting op.  It took some convincing, but I was able to persuade Maxson to let me search for him during Gladius’s deployment.”  
                His eyebrows pinched, and the tip of his cigarette glowed red as it neared the filter.  It was a harder pull, almost desperate.  
“You don’t have to keep talking about it.  Not if you don’t want to.”  
“I do.  I _need_ to.” He answered too quickly, as if in a panic.  
                She nodded at him, and continued to listen.  
“It took almost three weeks, but we tracked his team down to the Super Mutant hive at Fort Strong.”  
                Liera recounted the story he told her shortly after her arrival – about his encounters that led to the death of soldiers under his command.  
_“If it was their first encounter with Fort Strong, it didn’t happen that long ago.”  
                _ Danse jammed the cigarette in the ashtray, “Those wretched _abominations_ had slaughtered _everyone_ but Cutler. He should have been so lucky...”  
                Everything that showed his pain smoothed over.  He put his mask on, the one Liera had worn for years.  And just like her when she spoke of Demeter, he lost himself.  He was there again.  
“The Mutant bastards used their FEV to change him into one of their own kind.  The FEV effect is irreversible. There was nothing anyone could do. He wasn't Cutler anymore…”  
                But the mask started to break.  The pain was too fresh, couldn’t be contained.  
“I had to...it was my _duty_ to...”  Danse pulled in a cleaved breath, “…Put him down.”  
                Liera didn’t know what to say, or how to react.  To kill her best friend Sage, the person _she_ signed on with…The thought tore at her.  She couldn’t place herself in his shoes.  She didn’t want to.  
                The way he fell apart, just talking about it…  
“I’m sorry.”  
                It sounded so generic she’d wished she just kept it to herself.  
“Don’t be.  It had to be done.”  Danse flinched like the words physically hurt.  
                He snapped the goggles over his eyes, and leaned over to continue mending the wires.  
                He didn’t have much to say after that.

…

                Liera was almost scared to speak.  She worried if he was angry with her for prying, and felt a strange tension between them.  
_“Did I push too hard?”  
                _ A chill swept over her.  
_“He said he wanted to talk about it…So why do I feel so guilty?”  
_                 Her helmet flickered, “Fiber optic repair: Complete.  Running diagnostics.”  
                The indicators turned blue, and they raced along each line that served as Liera’s nerves.  
“Paladin Danse, diagnostic reports on all circuits have confirmed that Pilot Lastimosa’s cybernetic arm has been restored to 100% functionality.  Please proceed to final phase.  Step 5: Recoat fibers with polymer coating spray.  Step 6: Coat repaired shell with polymer coating.  Upon completion, you may bolt the Boreum Alloy plating.”  
                He gave her a silent nod, and flexed his wrists.  _  
_ “I can finish, if you want.”  Liera offered.  
“No, it’s fine.” He flipped the Omnihealer over, “How do I coat the wires?”  
“Danse, really, I can do this-“  
“Lastimosa, I’ve got it.”  
                She lowered her head, chewing the inside of her cheek.  
_“Don’t bite his head off.”  
                _ She hated feeling like a burden, and hated unresolved conflict even more.  
“There’s a solid black tube in the kit.  Load it into the bottom of the handle and pull the latch on the top.  You’ll see a green light when it’s melted and ready to spray.  But coat the shell _first_ so it dries by the time you’re done with the fibers.  No need to be precise, just hit them from all angles…And there’s a mask in there if the fumes get to you.”  
“Sounds good.”  
                Liera averted her watchful observing as he followed her instructions.  
_“Can today just be over?”_

…

                Danse worked with steady hands, ignoring the clouds of polymer spray that tickled his nose.  He felt bad for being short with Liera and unloading his issues on her in the first place.  
_“She’s got enough to deal with.”  
_                 The fibers didn’t take long to coat.  He used the metal probe to sift through them, making sure the bottoms were covered.  
“I’m sorry if I came off as cross…”  He mumbled.  
“You’re fine.”  
“Are you mad at me?”  
                Her nose crinkled, and her cheek pulled back in a side grin, “What? No, why would I…” Liera shook her head, “Danse, I wasn’t put in a position quite like yours, but I know what kind of toll loss takes.”  
                He pulled back to let the wires dry, “But I should be used to it by now.  After Kreig, other soldiers, even my squad…I should be better at sorting through the pain that comes with it.  I’m-“  
“You knew Cutler longer.” She cut him off, “You made critical life decisions with him.  Had certain experiences with him, and only him…It’s _okay_ for it to feel different.  It doesn’t mean the rest of them don’t matter.”  
                It was like she was reading his mind, picking at the bits of guilt and uncertainty that surrounded his mourning.  
“Did it feel like that when…” Danse sighed, “Sorry, I shouldn’t...”  
                He knew she lost someone close, and sought council through her experience.  
“When Ryan died?”  She finished for him.  
                He nodded.  
“It did…I met him when I was 19, four years before Demeter.”  She smiled, “He was an IMC soldier that escorted a bunch of refugees to a Militia ship.  Blisk shot him for defecting right before he made it onboard.  Dad scraped him up, and brought him to our medical tent in Newdrift.  Made one hell of a first impression on me.”  The memory filled her with warmth, macabre as it was, “He was bleeding out on an operation table, and I talked him through it the entire time. He was scared to die, but more so, determined _not_ to.  Not long after his recovery, we joined the Pilot’s Program together.  Went through SERE training together.  He was there for my pairing with EV.  He was with me during my first deployment.”  
                She inhaled sharply through her nose, “I took this mission to put some distance between me and what happened.  I thought it would help me wipe the slate clean; make amends for the mistakes I made that resulted in Ryan being killed.”  
                Despite her obvious guilt, Liera sat strong with resolve.  
“I’m 24 now, and he’s dead.  One didn’t come without the other…And living with it doesn’t get easier.”  She cleared her throat, “You just learn to deal with it.”  
                Watching her struggle, and the strength she pulled from it gave him hope.  He wasn’t romantically involved with Cutler like her and Ryan, but finding someone who shared the trauma from losing a close companion helped start the journey of coming to terms with it.  
“How?” He whispered, “How did you…’learn to deal with it?’”  
                Liera shrugged, “It’s what he would want.  He’d tell me he could’ve jumped on the evac and hoped for the best, and that it was his choice _not_ to.  So when I was given the choice to keep fighting or succumb to my wounds, I had these prosthetics installed.  I got back out there to make sure his sacrifice wouldn’t be for nothing.”  She looked at him, “Just like you’re doing for Cutler, now.”  
                It felt like a snake had his throat in a chokehold.  His clenched teeth squeezed the sides of his head, and two words escaped the prison in his chest.  
“Thank you.”  
“You’re welcome.”  She picked up the black shell, and clipped it into place, “Now drill my plate back on so we can go see Maxie.”  
                It felt good to laugh, even if it hurt his throat, “Don’t _ever_ let him hear you call him ‘Maxie.’”

       Liera held the Boreum plate over it as Danse switched the tip on the Omnihealer.  
“How about…Mad Max?”  
                He grunted, “You don’t get to call him anything but Elder Maxson.”  
“Meh.”  
                Danse lowered the bit, and she held her arm still as he drilled the three bolts back in their sockets.  
“Alrighty, then.  Time for the wipe down and then I can get a shower.”  
“Wipe down?  Do I need to get some grease from the Power Armor Bay?”  
“You bring that stuff near me? I’ll kill you.  This…” She reached across the desk and held a small bottle in her hand, “…Is a special solution that removes all the excess shavings, gets rid of the soldering marks…basically makes it nice and shiny.”  
“Can’t have your _cybernetic_ _arm_ blending in with the rest of the Commonwealth, right?”  
“All dingy and gross?  Pass.”  
“It was a joke…because it wouldn’t ever ‘blend in…’ Never mind.”  
“No wonder you and EV get along.  Both make bad jokes.”  She laughed.  
“What, did she rate my humor at ‘average,’ too?”  
“Rating humor?  Don’t be ridiculous.”  Liera shook her head, “Or was that another bad joke?”  
“Now you’re just being an ass.”  
“It’s what I’m good at, eh?”  She stretched her back, “Fire it up, EV.  Let’s see how his patchwork holds.”  
“Commencing reboot.” The visor flickered with EV’s voice.  
                Liera twitched, and the implants on her head turned purple.  
“Uh…”  Danse lifted a finger, “You’re glowing.”  
“I’m-okay-” Her eyes squeezed shut, and her other hand curled around the edge of the desk.  
                She exhaled, and shook off whatever pain ailed her, “WOO! Back in business!”  
                Liera bent her arm and flexed her fingers, “Good as new!”  
“So…those implants…”  Danse leaned back.  
“ _Still_ classified.  And trust me, even if they weren’t, you wouldn’t wanna know.”  
“I beg to differ...”  He picked up the rag from the kit, and folded it into a square.  
“I know that look.”  She tapped his nose, and he jumped in surprise, “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”  
“Easy for you to say.”  Danse sprinkled some of the supplied solution on the rag, and slid his chair closer to her.  
“What? I don’t get a doctor-esque warning like, ‘This is going to be cold?’”  
“No.”  He reached for her, “You don’t.”  
               

…

                Fluid seeped from the bottom of the cloth as Danse pressed it against her metal shoulder.  His breath was warm, but chilled her as it hit the gleaming trail.  His hair tickled along the spots it hit, his face being only inches away as he studied her prosthetic for impurities.  He’d definitely done this before.  
                Danse lifted the rag from her elbow and flipped it over to the dry side, starting at the top again. The bristles gliding down her arm rose the hairs on her limbs made of flesh.  
“I would have never expected you to damage your prosthetic to save me.”  
                The slight pressure of his hand forced her brows to pinch.  She heard his words in a foggy string of sounds, her mind playing catch up to form a sentence.   
“That’s what friends are for, Saul.” Her heart dropped, “Er, Danse, Paladin- whatever I’m supposed to call you.”  
                He smirked, “You can call me Saul when we’re _alone_ …Wouldn’t want anyone to think I’m playing favorites.”  
“But you are.”  
                He looked at her confused, “What’s that?”  
“I _am_ your favorite.”  
                The laugh she’d chased for the last few minutes finally filled the room.  The deep chuckle that made her feel better every time she heard it.  It was soft and velvet; strong and deadly.  
“You know…” His hot breath fogged the metal, “Ever since Cutler died, I've seen other soldiers come and go. Some were brave, some were honest...Hell, some were even downright heroic.”  He put more solution on the rag, “…But I'd never consider any of them to be a good friend, a friend like Cutler was.  Until now.”  
                A jolt ran through her, and she must’ve done a poor job at hiding it.  He paused, as if regretting what he said.  Alarm spread over his face, and he broke away from her stare.  
“I apologize.  If you feel that I’ve overstepped my bounds, I completely understand.” He cupped the underside of her bicep with his hand, and ran small circles over the plating.  
                Watching him buff her arm so delicately made her heart skip.  
“No…it’s not that.  I just...Didn't know you felt that strongly about our...Well, about us.”  The back of her neck tingled, and the fluttering in her chest started to hurt, “You’re a hard read sometimes.”  
                The scar that split the right side of his face folded as he smiled, “From one recon specialist to another, I’ll take that as a compliment.”  
“You should.”  She swallowed hard, “Takes a lot to throw me off.”  
“Trust me when I say, that wasn’t what I was aiming for.” He sighed, “I used to be a lot better at talking about _feelings_ before he died, too…” _  
_ “Having a bond with someone, then losing them…It changes you.” She flexed her metal fingers, remembering what life was like when they were real, “Makes you realize you’d do _anything_ to prevent it from happening again.”  
“Like cutting off your arm and having it synced to implants you won’t tell anyone about?”  
“Right.” She smirked, “Or like reaching for a Pilot’s pistol to shoot a Mutant.”  
“Hey, I was protecting _both_ of us.”  
“You’re still the only person who’s made a grab for my Wingman and lived to justify it.”  
                He hummed, and it evolved into a trickling laugh, “I should consider myself lucky, then.”  
“Lucky I like you enough to keep you around.”  
“I’ll take _that_ over firing your pistol, any day…” _  
_                 He lifted the cloth square to start at her shoulder, but his gaze left it this time.  When he met hers, his hand stopped.  
                Liera held her breath, stunted by the way he looked at her.  Her mouth went dry, and she licked her lips.  Blood rushed up her neck and into her cheeks, forced by quick tremors of anxiety.  Her pulse shook the veins behind her ears.  
                His knee brushed against hers, and his eyes dropped to her mouth.  His fingers glided across her cheek, and his palm cupped her jaw.  Her lips shuddered as a stale breath left her, and she pushed her face into his large hand.  
                It felt good to feel some kind of affection during a time where everything seemed to hurt.  She felt his strength as her hand trailed up his forearm, smoothing the wrinkled sleeve of his jumpsuit.  Her fingers interlocked with his.  
“Saul, I…I want to,” Her chest went cold as she pulled his hand away, “But it’ll just make things harder when I have to leave.”  
                His mouth opened and closed, choking on words that didn’t know how to surface. Liera rested her hand on his shoulder as she stood.  
                A wet trail cooled her cheek, “…We just…We can’t.”  
                It hurt to say it, to admit it.  
“I know.”  
                But it hurt worse to hear him agree.

…

                The shower washed away the reminders of Fort Strong, but the fresh bruise on her heart wasn’t so easily dispelled.  It was swollen and aching.  The coldness from it stung.  She wanted to run and never look back, and forget Danse ever existed.  
                But Maxson’s address was coming.  She needed to pull herself from her old fantasies and into her new reality.  
_“To join, or not to join…”  
_                 It was a decision that she had to make for her and EV, and whether they wanted to acknowledge it or not, the fate of the Brotherhood was intertwined with theirs.  
_“Leave the Brotherhood, maybe die.  Stay with the Brotherhood, they become a target.”  
_                 She wasn’t sure what other factions lay beyond the _Prydwen_ , but one had already been confirmed to dislike the Brotherhood and their Titan-assisted ambitions.  She’d heard of another called the Railroad in passing, but didn’t know much about them.  
_“I don’t understand why they don’t all work together…”  
_                 The Militia was built upon Colonies that hardly communicated before the IMC arrived.  Even pirates, bandits, and mercenaries alike joined the fight for the Frontier.  They had a single leader, the founder of the Militia, a person of great importance whose identity was lost with the Original Colonies.  
_“Maybe these people just need a leader.”  
_                 She sighed.  
_"Maybe I need to stop trying to solve the world's problems, quit fawning over a guy like I'm 16, and stay focused on my mission."  
                _ Liera tilted her head, the water dripping from her hair.  
_“When did I become so fucking hopeless?”_

…

                Danse sat at the table, flipping his holotags in his fingers.  The world was blurred as he was trapped in a daydream.  He didn’t have experience in dealing with this.  
                And she _was_ right.  She wouldn’t be staying here permanently.  One day, she’d pack her bags and be gone – probably forever.  Instead of this inevitable truth pushing him away from the feelings that haunted him, it made him want to pursue them; to take advantage of the short time they had together to explore what they were.  
_“But for what?”  
_                 He shook his head, sundering the idea.  He was her CO.  She was his responsibility.  Nothing could compromise that. He had a duty to follow through with and a code of ethics to uphold.  
                Liera zipped up her vest over a new tank top, having swapped out her bloody jumpsuit for a pair of matching camouflage fatigues. _  
_ “Will this do?”  
“Yes.”  He coughed, “You look very professional.”  
“Glad to hear.  I’m running low on clean clothes.”  
“We’ll take care of that tomorrow.”  He pushed himself up by his knees.  
                Danse appreciated the lighthearted conversation.  
_“Looks like she doesn’t want to talk about it, either.”  
_                 Considering everything that was at stake, it was probably for the better.  
“How are you feeling?”  
                She combed her hair, “Haven’t been this nervous since my SRS induction ceremony.”  
“Good.  Means you’re taking it seriously.”  
                She swallowed, and kept her eyes to the floor, “I am.”  
                He tossed Liera her helmet, and she rolled it in her hands.  
“If I take this promotion, would I still be part of your squad?”  She clipped it to her belt.  
                Danse leaned around her, and swiped his holotags on the lock, “Do you even need to ask?”  
                He went to open the door, and she grabbed his wrist.  
“Just…Wait, I-I’m-“  
“Breathe.”  
                A quick breath inflated her chest, and she squeezed her eyes shut.  
“Unless you’re requesting a change of supervisor, you’re stuck with Gladius.”  He cupped the sides of her arms and gently shook her awake, “Look at me.”  
                She did, and trembled in his hands.  
“I don’t know what’s going to happen in there.”  He nipped her chin with his knuckle, giving her a wink, “But what I _do_ know is that we’re pretty good at making things up as we go.”  
“Yeah…Yeah, we are.”  
                She wrapped her arms around his waist, and squeezed him.  He held her until she was ready to leave, happy she hugged him in the first place.

…

                It was late in the afternoon, and the setting sun burnt the Command Deck orange.  The room was more crowded than Liera had ever seen it.  To the right; Rhys, Haylen, and Cade stood at attention.  To the left; the red-headed woman from EV’s feed and another that looked to be a Scribe stood in front of two men, both aged wearing Officer’s uniforms.  
                And at the head of all of them was Maxson, reading a report from a clipboard.  
“Elder Maxson.” Danse greeted.  
“Paladin.  Initiate.”  
                Liera and Danse saluted in unison, standing in the middle of the alley.  
“Outstanding work at Fort Strong, soldiers.  Knight Rhys has finished supervising the transfer of the Fat Man warheads to the hangar...They'll provide quite an edge to our arsenal.”  Maxson handed the clipboard back to Rhys, who broke out of formation to accept it.  
“I've also ordered a detachment to occupy the Fort and use it as a staging area to protect the eastern side of the airport.  All-in-all, Paladin, your team handed us quite a valuable location.”  
“It was an honor fighting for the Brotherhood, Elder Maxson.”  
“I'm glad you feel that way, because our mission here has only just begun.”  He looked out beyond the sunset that enveloped the Commonwealth, “Initiate Lastimosa.”  
                Liera jumped, “Yes, sir?”  
“I wanted you to start taking responsibility for this planet. To start making a difference…But from what I've read in Paladin Danse's reports, you've already begun that journey.”  He turned back to her, a hint of a smile tugging at his beard, “Therefore, from this moment forward, I'm granting you the rank of Knight.”  
                He nodded at a man to the left, who opened a small case.  Inside were two holotags, glowing and already marked with her personal information and updated rank.  
“And, befitting your title, you have earned a pair of your own holotags to identify yourself on the field of battle.  Wear them with pride.”  
                Liera was never a fan of being put on the spot, especially when a decision laid on the horizon.  But she was on the _Prydwen,_ a Brotherhood ship.  She’d assisted in taking Fort Strong under Brotherhood command.  She’d made first contact with Brotherhood soldiers.  
                She realized she already made her decision long before she was asked to make it.  
“Thank you, Elder Maxson.”  She accepted the holotags and slung them around her neck, “I'll do my best to live up to it.”  
“I expect that you will.”  He folded his arms behind his back.  
                Maxson steadily paced between the rows of soldiers.  He lost his warm tones, and looked like he was gearing up to deliver some pretty harsh news.  
“Now, the reason I’ve called you all here today…”  
                [ He shook a fist to accentuate his words,](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ql-qjw9u18) “Brothers and Sisters, the road behind has been long, and fraught with difficulty.  Each and every one of you has surpassed my expectations by rapidly facilitating our arrival in the Commonwealth.  You have accomplished this amazing feat without a hint of purpose…or direction. And most impressively…without, question.”  
                He paused in the middle of the soldiers, “Now that the ship is in position, it is time to reveal our purpose…and, our mission…”  
                He held out a hand behind him to the windows of the _Prydwen,_ “Beneath the Commonwealth, there is a cancer...known as the Institute. A _malignant_ growth, that needs to be _cut_ before it infects the surface.”  
                Maxson slammed a fist in his palm, “They are experimenting with dangerous technologies that could prove to be the world's undoing for the second, time…In _recent_ history.  The Institute Scientists have created a weapon that **transcends** the destructive nature of the atom bomb.  They call their creation…the ‘Synth,’ a robotic abomination of technology, that is free-thinking, and masquerades as a human being.”  
                He began his angry pacing again, his voice hitched on leashed fury that seared through his words, “This… _notion_ …that a machine could be granted free will is not only _offensive_ , but horribly dangerous.  And like the atom, if it isn't harnessed properly, it has the potential of rendering us extinct, as a species.”  
                Liera looked at Danse out of the corner of her eye.  
_“You aren’t sure if he’s talking about EV or the Synths either, are you?”  
_                 She blinked, and directed her attention back to the raging Elder.  
“ ** _I_** _,_ am **not** prepared to allow the Institute to continue this line of experimentation.  Therefore, the Institute and their ‘Synths,’ are considered **enemies** of the Brotherhood of Steel…and should be dealt with **swiftly** , and **mercilessly**!”  
                Maxson’s breathing came heavy after his shouting ceased.  He stood with his side facing them, his head turned to the ruins below.  
“This campaign will be costly…And many lives will be lost…”  
                He turned his body towards the audience, “But in the end, we will be saving humankind from its worst enemy...Itself.”  
                He beat his fist against his chest, “Ad Victoriam!”  
                The rest of the soldiers in the room did the same, including Liera.  Her war cry, however, was more uncertain than the rest of them.  
“Knight Lastimosa, Paladin Danse, I’d like to have a word.  The rest of you are free to return to your duties.  Thank you for your time.”  
                Aside from Cade, the other soldiers outside of Gladius gave Liera scrutinizing looks as they left the Command Deck.  
“I’m proud of you.” Haylen shook her hand.  
“Thanks, Haylen.”  
“Don’t go getting all cocky just because we’re the same rank, _Sister_.”  Rhys smirked.  
“Maybe I can get him to hyphen it…You know, Knight-Pilot Lastimosa.”  
                He rolled his eyes, “Idiot.”  
“Don’t call her an idiot!”  
“Come on, Haylen…’Knight-Pilot?’”  
                Their banter faded as the sliding door hit the ground, and Liera found Danse watching her new pair of holotags glow.  
“Good call.”  
                She grunted, “You’re a little biased, don’t you think?”  
“He’s not the only one.”  Maxson cleared his throat, “I'm pleased that you're willing to continue your service for the Brotherhood.”  
                Her neck snapped back to him, and she fell into her professional composure, “It’s the least we could do for everything the Brotherhood has done for us.  EV and I, that is.”  
“’We...Us…’” He folded an arm, and rested his elbow on it as he rubbed his chin.  He looked to the floor, and paced as he lost himself in thought, “Indulge me for a moment by satisfying my curiosity.  This new eagerness to assist the Brotherhood, your newfound sense of duty…Does it have something to do with what you found below Fort Strong?”  
                She froze.  
_“Is this a setup?  Did Danse tell him what we saw?”  
_                 After the moments they recently shared, and the risks he was taking on her behalf…  
_“No, he couldn’t have.  Gotta be a bluff.”  
_ “We didn’t find anything but a few Ghouls, Elder.  There were some abandoned consoles that may have had valuable data on them at one point in time, but we were unable to collect any of it.”  
“But you could retrieve data from the hard drive recovered by Paladin Brandis?”  
_“Damn. He’s good.”  
_                 The air was still.  She felt the hairs raise on the back of her neck.                 
_“But I’m better.”  
_                 She regained herself, “With all due respect, Elder, the hard drive Paladin Brandis found wasn’t used for top-secret weapons research, such as the machines were at Fort Strong.  Knight Rhys was so helpful to inform me of that.  Either way, the scripted security protocols EV and I encountered below the Fort were similar to that of the IMC’s.  Heavily encrypted and impenetrable.”  
“And how do you explain the message on the door, painted over the brand of the Enclave?”  He bore into her, “Rhys’s report was _very_ thorough.  Does the Militia have ties with our defeated enemy?”  
“If you believed that, you wouldn’t have promoted me in front of your top Officers.”  
                Danse opened his mouth to speak, but Maxson’s raised voice silenced him.  
“Clearly, I already had your holotags made in anticipation of your acceptance.  I cannot allow _any_ sense of division among my soldiers, so I followed through with it, even after reading Knight Rhys’s final report.  Now answer my question, because deflection will hardly help you in this matter, Lastimosa.”  Maxson took the first of a series of steps towards her, “And in ‘this matter,’ you should be very careful which words you choose.”  
                Liera’s teeth clenched, and she was dwarfed by his height.  A tinge of alcohol stuck to his words.   The smell of smoke saturated his coat.  His steel eyes sliced through her veil, and she did all she could to not crumble under pressure.  
“I’m unfamiliar with the group known as the Enclave, as I’m sure Rhys included in his ‘very thorough,’ report.  The message on the door was the title of a prayer the SRS uses to bless the passing of a soldier killed in action.”  
                But then she had an idea, because Pilots worked _better_ under pressure.  She lifted her chin to meet his imposing stare.  
“At first, it was alarming.  So I racked my brain for an explanation, much like you.  Then I remembered I’m not the only one with ties to the Frontier around here.”  
                She tapped the side of her helmet, and pulled up a hologram to divide them.  Her tech glove latched onto it, and she moved it to the side.  It depicted information from weapons and development, stamped by Lastimosa’s Armory.  
“It struck me odd how Nora was able to identify these prosthetics of mine, having only been developed in the last 30 years.  If I seem hesitant to share information, it’s only because I find _her_ incredibly suspicious.”  Liera squeezed her fist, and the diagram dispersed, “Perhaps she’s still in contact with her family’s company.  Perhaps the IMC has ties to this ‘Enclave.’  The Militia sure as hell doesn’t.”  
“If your claims are true, how would she have insight on the SRS and your customs?”  
“Because…” She did her best to not falter under him, “Because her husband was secretly an informant for the Militia, and he’s still alive.”  
                Maxson cracked.  There was a twitch in his nose, a tug on his lip, a pinch in his brow.  She heard his teeth grind together.  He slowly turned his head towards Danse, “Did _you_ know about this?”  
“No.” Liera answered for him, “I’ve kept this to myself in an effort to keep a tight lid on it.”  
“I don’t believe I was talking to you.” He snapped, “How did you obtain this information?”  
“If it's all the same to you, I'd prefer not to say.”  
                A shadow fell on his sunken features, “That answer's unacceptable, Knight.”  
                She gulped, and refused to let him see the fear she kept at bay.  
“Elder…Every day, every _mission_ you send me on, I am forced to walk a fine line between upholding my own objectives while pursuing yours.  The moment that becomes a conflict of interest…” She shook her head, and put her hands on her hips.  
                She looked away, and Danse shifted his weight nervously.  
_“I can’t blow this now.  He’s at risk here, too.”  
_                 Liera turned back to Maxson, “I may be out of contact with Command, but they trusted me when they gave me, and me alone, my orders.  I’m asking you to do the same.”  
                If she hadn’t been trained, she may have dubbed him fooled by the collected answer she gave him. But she could see the wheels turning in his head.  She hit a nerve, and he wasn’t used to that.  
“Very well.”  Maxson turned on his heel, “I believe there's a bit more to the story than you're telling me, but based on your actions so far, I'm willing to take you at your word.”  
                He returned to the railing that guarded a window, and his voice was low and hoarse, “But before I allow _any_ of my soldiers to openly engage with the Institute, careful preparations need to be made… Lastimosa, I must speak with Paladin Danse in private.  Your new holotags have been programmed for your Quarters.”  
                She hesitated, and Danse continued to fidget next to her. _  
_ “Allow me to officially welcome you aboard the _Prydwen,_ soldier.  Make us proud.”  
                Maxson sounded defeated, and the dark undertones of his words told her he wasn’t going to accept that without retaliation.  
                Liera saluted him, “Yes, Elder.”  
                She shot Danse a worried look and her strong façade crinkled.  She didn’t want to leave him alone to deal with the mess she made.  
“Go.” He mouthed, smiling.  
                Danse nodded to the door and gave her another wink, straightening himself just in time as Maxson turned around.  
                Liera proceeded to knock on the sliding door.  The soldiers on the other side lifted it, and slammed it before she could turn around.  
_“This is gonna get worse before it gets better.”_

…

                Danse all but trembled at the tension in the room.  Few things struck fear into him, but an angry Arthur Maxson was one of them.  
“She’s difficult, to say the least.” He crossed his arms.  
“She can be.” Danse mumbled.  
“I’m counting on you to keep her in line.  Do _not_ let her lead you astray.  Do you understand me?”  
                Hearing him talk about her like she was some subservient follower rubbed him the wrong way.  She wasn’t a rogue agent trying to divide and conquer the Brotherhood.  
                She wasn’t Nora.  
“Of course, Elder.”  
“Very good.”  His shoulders rose and fell as he vented his anger, “On to our business, then.”  
                Maxson pulled a cigarette from the inner lining of his coat, and flipped open his lighter.   
“By now, I'm sure you're aware that Fort Strong was simply the first step towards the liberation of the Commonwealth.”  He inhaled, and returned the lighter to his chest pocket, “We're here because of the unique energy readings recorded by your recon team.  According to our Scribes, the reading indicated a level of technology that only the Institute could achieve.”  
                He put a hand in his pocket, “The moment this information came to light, our mission became clear…The Institute and everyone responsible for the creation of the Synths must be eliminated, at all costs.  To accomplish this goal, we need to locate the Institute's headquarters.”  
                Danse swallowed, “How may we be of assistance?”  
"I've had our Knights meticulously searching the Commonwealth, but they've come up empty-handed.  We've been running around-the-clock Vertibird patrols and we even have squads on the ground trying to pick up anything we can. The only logical explanation is that they've gone underground.” With a strong exhale, the smoke hid his face before it returned, “That’s where we need _her_ help.”  
“Lastimosa, you mean?”  
“Yes.  As the only present representative for the Militia, we must pool our resources to achieve our common goal…To help humanity.”  
                Danse rubbed the back of his neck, “I’m not sure if you remember that broadcast from the _MacAllan,_ but she’s a little low on Militia resources at the moment.”  
“And yet, she has a Titan.”  
                That made him somewhat irritated, “If I may speak openly…”  
“Proceed.”  
“Why not ask her yourself?”  
“I have a feeling you have more pull with her than I do.”  
                Danse bit his tongue, unsure how to respond.  It was true, but he couldn’t justify it without incriminating himself…or her.  
“The Institute preys on the weak to further their own ends.  The technology they have at their disposal is frightening, at best.  They've already done immeasurable damage to this place.”  Maxson looked sad, and then the anger within him reared its head, “I want you to get out there and become our eyes and ears on the ground.  With Lastimosa’s help, we’ll make them _pay_ for their crimes…”  
                Danse rolled his ankle, sore from standing, “I’m sure she’ll have little objection to that.”  
“I wish the same could be said for everyone out _there_.” Maxson huffed, “I just hope we’re here in time...  Leaving them to their own devices is what reduced this metropolis to ruins in the first place.  I refuse to allow the mistakes of the past to be repeated.”  
                The stress on Maxson was highlighted by the sunset.  He was tired, worn and beat.  His beard was longer and unkept.  His hair was slightly out of place.  
                Danse walked to his side, crossing his arms and leaning on the railing, “You’ve got quite the view here.”  
“It’s a sound reminder of what we’re fighting for.”  Maxson scanned the city, “I care about them, you know…The people of the Commonwealth.”  
“I know you do.  But if the Brotherhood is going to win the hearts and minds of the people, we need to start _behaving_ like we care.”  
“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”  
                Danse held his hands up, “I’m just talking about the recent radio broadcast.  I’m sure you’ve heard about it by now.”  
                Maxson leaned back, getting out of Danse’s face, “Hmph.  Preston and his Minutemen.  Trying to starve us out like fucking animals.”  He pulled harder on his cigarette, “Sorry.”  
“Don’t apologize.  You should swear more often.” Danse clamped a hand on his shoulder and gave him a slight shake, “It’s good for you.”  
                He shrugged him off, and straightened his coat, “Can’t you just let me seethe in peace without trying to make me feel better?”  
“Nope.  Friends don’t do that to each other.”  
                Maxson glared at him from the side, “Part of me misses the days when you were scared of me.”  
“Oh, I still am.” Danse laughed, “Don’t you worry.”  
“Good.  Preston and his pack of hounds better be, too.”  He dropped his cigarette to the metal floor, and rubbed it out with his foot, “What they fail to realize is that the Brotherhood is here to prevent a war by starting one of our own.  The differences… _our_ war won’t reduce civilization to ashes.”  
“Preston won’t be so easily convinced, given our history.”  
“Which is precisely why your squad’s next mission will be focused on… _convincing_ him.”  
“Arthur…” Danse straightened his back, “We can’t openly engage with the Minutemen.  The entire Commonwealth would-“  
“Turning your weapons on the very same people that you’re trying to save can be a bitter pill to swallow, I understand.”  Maxson cut him off, “But when we tried to be diplomatic, we were met with resistance.  We cannot afford to starve before our job here is done.”  
“I…No, we can’t…”  
“Saul…” Maxson sighed, “What I need most from you right now is to follow my orders and remain patient.”  
                The pleading on his face reminded Danse who he fought for.  His friend and leader, the man who shaped the Brotherhood into the force it was today.  He who molded Danse’s career in his hands, and provided him with the life he led.  
“Whatever you need, Arthur.”  His fist slammed into his chest in a salute.  
                Maxson grunted, and a slight grin curved his mouth.  
“Rest up and prepare for an early morning deployment to Sanctuary.”  He saluted Danse in response, “Dismissed, soldier.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to give a special shout out to MjrGenMatt for letting me bounce ideas around!
> 
> And as always, thank you everyone for reading and your support! :'D


	23. Mayday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"If you don't deal with your demons, they'll deal with you. And it's gonna hurt."_  
>  -Frank Seraphino

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Wastelands," by Linkin Park linked to text "angry beat."

* * *

* * *

 

               iera’s jump kit rolled under her scrubbing, its curved surface rocking along the sink’s flat bottom.  Her eyelids fluttered above the steel wool sponge that remove the gore from the day in a sudsy mess.  Every time she blinked, it was harder to open her eyes again.  Her knees felt like they weighed a world a piece.  It was nothing new, but this felt different.  She was drained.  
_“Taking a fort and traveling through time will do that to you, I suppose.”_  
               She leaned in to eye up a dried patch of blood stuck between the jets, and her new holotags got caught on the sink’s neck when she straightened herself.  They jerked her forward, and she swore under her breath.  The blue lights shimmered against the sink’s dark metal.  
“You see these, EV?” Liera flipped them in her hands, “The Militia should really make their dogtags look like this.  I’d trade the built-in flash drive for some cool lights any day.”  
“’Cool lights’ do not serve a purpose, Pilot.”  
“Hey, you don’t know that.  Maybe there’s a reason?”  
“To make a soldier easier to be spotted by their enemy, perhaps.”  
               Liera nodded to the helmet on the counter next to her, “Got me there.”  
“I would advise wearing them under your jumpsuit to avoid drawing attention to yourself.”  
“Right, right…Am I supposed to put you in my pocket, too?”  
“I would not fit.”  
               She laughed, her smile reaching her ears.  
“Pilot…” EV sounded hesitant.  
               Liera’s smile faded, “What’s up?”  
“Even though we are under obligation as per protocol 26 of Special Operation: Wasteland Order to locate and question Nathan Black, I would not recommend trusting Elder Maxson with sensitive information in the future.”  
               She rubbed her shoulder, “I didn’t want to.  I had to give him _something_ to get the heat off me.  At least I didn’t tell him about how, you know…we record him.”  
               Liera scrubbed her jump kit vigorously, “Can you believe the nerve of that guy?”  
“He did seem rather hostile.”  
“Okay, so that wasn’t just me?  I mean, that was a hot-blooded interrogation.”  
“You were justified in your defiant course of actions, Pilot.”  
“Thanks.  Ugh.” She used a damp cloth to wipe her jump kit down, “Why am I still so pissed off?”  
“Your anxiety levels have not diminished since our deployment.  Your sleeping patterns have not corrected themselves.  You have not established a daily routine. Your hormone levels are-“  
“EV, you were doing really… _really_ …good at this girl-talk thing until you went all Titan on me.”  
               EV was quiet for a bit.  
“Pulling recording from Captain Tai Lastimosa as reference… **[That’s EV’s way of telling you to ‘cheer the fuck up.’]** …I believe he explained it best.”  
               Liera whistled, “Ya know, that might be the edgiest I’ve seen you, yet.”  
               The door creaked open, and a tall, orange-jumpsuited Paladin walked through.  
“Go away, Danse.  We’re talking about how much of a jerk your boss is.”  
“Actually, we were just about to discuss the abnormal levels of-“  
“EV.  Don’t you dare.”  She shot the helmet an angry look, but turned her attention to Danse, “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”  
               He shut the door with his heel, looking at his bed longingly.  The springs in his mattress creaked under his weight, and he bounced up and down until he leveled out, “Emsuetor-"  
“I don’t speak pillow, sorry.”  
               He lifted his neck, “I’m so tired.”  
               Danse yawned, and pulled his arms out of his jumpsuit before reaching behind his back.  He grabbed a lump of muscle and rolled it in his fingers, his arm bent at an awkward angle.  
“Gotta kink in you?”  
               Danse mumbled.  
“Want me to take a crack at it?”  
               He tapped his back, and his arm went slack next to him.  
               Liera set her jump kit down, and made her way across the room.  She put her metal elbow right where he left off, rubbing his white t-shirt in circles with it.  
               He groaned into his comforter.  Liera kept her giggles to herself.  
“So what did Maxie want?”  
               Danse adjusted himself to cross his arms, resting his chin on them.  
“Shipping off at 04:00.  We’re being deployed to Sanctuary to talk with Preston and the Minutemen.”  
“And if they don’t cooperate?”  
“Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that.”  
               Liera shifted to using her hands, starting at the sides of his neck, “You better tell that hothead Rhys to keep his guns on safety.  Taking over colonies by force goes against everything the Militia stands for.”  
“Settlements, you mean.”  
“Whatever.”  She kept working the tension out of his muscles.  
“I have a plan…” He mumbled, “But I’d like to cover the details tomorrow.  I still have plenty to do tonight and even more tomorrow morning before we leave.”  
“What do you have to do?”  
“Drop our laundry off, pack, sleep, deploy.”  
“And there’s nothing I can help with?”  
“You’re helping me plenty.”  
               She moved her hands and smiled, kneading the knots out of the broad expanse of his back.  
“I’m qualified to do a little leg work, you know…And the sooner we get this over with the better. I need to find that Vault and get in there.”  
“Who said you need to find it?”  
               Her hands froze, pinching a bunch of fabric and muscle in her fingers, “What’s that?”  
“Vault 111 is in Sanctuary’s backyard.”  
“Why didn’t you say that earlier?!”  
“I didn’t have a chance to-“  
“Oh, you beautiful, beautiful man.  That’s quite the relief.”  She rustled his hair, “Will you be spelunking with me?”  
“Uh…” He turned his head with a smirk on his face, “Only if you promise to never use the word, ‘spelunking,’ again.”  
               She bit her lip and let her eyes wander, laying on the bed with her arm for support.  
               Danse propped himself on an elbow and raised a brow, “What?”  
“Nothing.  You just make it hard to be responsible…To follow the rules…”  
               Danse scoffed, “First time I’ve heard _that_.”  
               Her gaze trailed down to his arms, bulging under his shirt that outlined every chiseled inch of his upper body.  
_“He makes a nice distraction.”  
_                She grunted and looked away.  
“If you’ve got something to say, just say it.”  
               Liera turned her head back to him, “You couldn’t handle it.”  
“Pardon?”  
               She jabbed his chest, slowly pushing him down, “I _said_ , you couldn’t handle it.”  
               His head sank in the bed, and she hovered above him.  
“I can handle a lot more than you think.” His confidence seemed shaky.  
               A knock came at the door, and he groaned under his breath.  Liera sighed and leaned back, putting her hands in her lap.  
               He quickly got up to swipe his tags, and opened the door.  
“What?” Danse pinched the bridge of his nose, “Oh, it’s you…”  
               Rhys leaned in, eyeing Liera suspiciously.  
“Uh…Evening, Paladin Danse.”  He didn’t stop watching her as he clicked a pen and held out a clipboard, “The order supply for tomorrow.”  
“Thank you.”  He signed his name after reviewing the document thoroughly, “Were you and Haylen briefed?”  
“Uh-huh.  04:00 deployment to Sanctuary.” He looked back to Danse, “Those cocky bastards better knock it off with these embargos.”  
“Nothing an even-tempered discussion can’t fix.” Liera walked to the hamper.  
“We’ll see about that.” Rhys said from the doorway, “Lastimosa, your gear is cleaned and ready for pick up.  Why don’t you come with me to get it?”  
               She pulled the cloth lining from the basket, tying the handles in a knot, “It’s like you read my mind.”  
“What are you-“ Danse started.  
“I’m taking the laundry to Teagan.”  
“I said I’d-“  
“I got it.” She slung it over her shoulder, “’Scuse me!”  
               Liera slipped past him and turned on her heel, waving from behind Rhys.  Danse blinked, shaking his head as he closed the door.  
_“Too much of a distraction.”_

…

               Liera kept her head low as she and Rhys walked through the halls.  
“What was that about?”  
               She looked at him, “What was what about?”  
“You, sitting on his bed.”  
               They turned the corner labeled “Main Deck,” and she adjusted the sack on her shoulder.  
“I’m not sure what you’re implying, but I’m certain I don’t like it.”  
“Just keep in mind that fraternization is frowned upon, especially within our upper ranks…”  
“Uhm…First of all, there’s nothing going on.  We were just _talking._  Second, you really wanna be the one to lecture me about ‘fraternization?’  You know, with Haylen…”  
“Listen, Lastimosa.  I respect you enough not to lie to you.  It’s not that I don’t care about Haylen as more than a sister-in-arms, but…”  He stopped, and turned towards her, “Well, when she first signed on, it was _me_ who sponsored her.  I took her under my wing, showed her the ropes.  She thought there was a little more between us, so she asked me if I cared about her that way.”  
“And?”  
“I told her that the Brotherhood of Steel was all that I cared about, and there wasn’t room for anything else in my life.”  He pointed his chin at the other end of the hall, “I want to show you something.”  
               The corridor opened up to a larger room, dingy and dirty unlike the other parts of the _Prydwen._   The smell of grease and oil clogged Liera’s nose, wafting from the unmanned suits of Power Armor waiting patiently in their Bays.  Yellow frames held them in place, cranked and ready to hold their projects still.  
               Rhys led her to one in particular.  It held a red ring around the cuff of its right wrist with a sword and pair of wings gracing the hilt.  
               He peered into the black eyes of the helmet as he continued, “I told her that because it’s the level of sacrifice required to be a Paladin…Something I aim to become.  Paladins can’t afford to have friends, or take lovers…There’s just them, the Brotherhood, and nothing in between.”  
               Liera studied the hulking suit, heavy on its chains.  It was taller than the others, and she realized the mark on its wrist was unique, too.  
_“Must be Danse’s replacement…”  
_                She swallowed, “I understand.”  
“I’m glad.”  
               A calculated laugh came from the second level of the otherwise empty Main Deck.  
“Timely intervention…” He nodded to the stairs.  
               Liera followed him, passing a sign that read, “Research.”  
               Plants and other items grew within containers under UV lights.  Long counters formed a makeshift botany lab, and in the middle was an operation table with an ugly Super Mutant sprawled on top of it. _  
_ “Traveling with her and EV never leaves a dull moment, that’s for sure.  Can’t say I’m not excited to get back out there.”  Haylen took her Scribe pack off and put it at the end of a botany table.  
“I asked Knight Rhys for some stories, but I’m not sure if he was telling the truth.” A short-haired woman giggled, “Perhaps we can discuss them over this autopsy.”  
“Scrubbing in now, boss.”  
               Haylen winced as she pulled her flak jacket over her shoulders.  
“Easy, Haylen.”  Rhys eased his hands as he walked over, “You’re still recovering from a serious wound.”  
               She turned her head, “Nothing is gonna stop be from cracking open this Super Mutant.”  
“Yes, speaking of which…This specimen exhibits zero entry or exit wounds.  There’s not even a sign of melee- ah, here it is.  Bruising around the throat.”  The other woman pushed her bangs back, “Wait, the subject died of asphyxiation?”  
“Believe me now?” Rhys crossed his arms.  
               The woman who seemed to be in charge adjusted her goggles, “Knight Rhys, eavesdropping can be considered somewhat unprofessional, mind you.”  
“Apologies, Senior Scribe Neriah.”  
               Liera took her place next to him.  
               Haylen paused in tying her face mask, “Lastimosa, good to see you!”  
“You too, despite your…current objective.”  She leaned over the Mutant body and her nose furled, “Having one of these things onboard…”  
“It’s for science.  I’ll let you stab it a few times if you want.”  
“You couldn’t get me to stop…”  
“Words taken straight from Danse’s mouth.” She smiled, “He’s rubbing off on you.”  
“Yeah, well, that happens when you’re forced to live with someone.”  
“Tell me about it.” Her face mask wiggled under her goggles, “I’m stuck with this one.”  
“Hmph.” Rhys grunted, “See if I cover your ass next time you fail inspection.”  
               Neriah leaned away from the Super Mutant body, “Knight Lastimosa, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” She extended a hand, which Liera met graciously, “Senior Scribe Neriah.  Congratulations on your promotion.”  
“Thank you.  It’s a most unexpected turn of events, that’s for sure.”  
               The four of them surveyed the Mutant on the table.  
“I wonder what it’s…you know, looks like.”  
“Scribe!” Neriah shouted.  
“What?  Just saying.”  
               Liera scoured, “I’d like to _not_ be here when you find out.”  
”Am I really the only one that’s a little curious?”  
“Yes.” Liera and Rhys responded in unison.  
“Well, call me weird then.”  
“You’re weird.” He snickered.  
“You’ll forgive me for being crude…” Neriah mumbled, “But Scribe Haylen and I have work to do.”  
               Liera withheld a festering, smartass comment, “Best of luck to both of you, then.”  
“Thank you.”  
“See you guys tomorrow!” Haylen tugged on a strap, removing the beast’s chest plate.  
               Liera and Rhys waved them off, and continued through the armory towards the end of the hall.  
“Meant to ask you earlier.  Everything okay with Elder Maxson?”  
“Yeah, things cooled off after he was done accusing me of working with the Enclave.”  She huffed, “He took your report pretty close to heart.”  
“I didn’t mean to impose-“  
“I know, Rhys.  You’re just doing your job.  Besides, I’m used to getting the cold shoulder from the Top.  Just look at Senior Scribe Nessie over there.”  
“Neriah.  Her name is Neriah.”  
“That’s what I said.”  
               He rolled his eyes at her.  
               A cage barred a man with his back to them.  He was fiddling with all sorts of broken equipment, barking at a group of soldiers in the back room.  
“Don’t…Don’t drop that!  You hear me?”  
“Proctor Teagan.” Rhys saluted, “Knight Rhys-“  
“Reporting in, blah blah blah.” Teagan waved, not bothering to turn around, “Leave whatever you need cleaned on the counter.”  
“I’ve brought a visitor.”  
               Teagan turned around with a wrist on his hip.  He had greying hair and was a bit heavier set than the other Brotherhood Officers.  
_“Less uptight, too.”_  
               His eyes widened when he saw Liera, and he slapped the counter, “Step forward, Knight!  Even though they've locked me in this blasted cage, I promise that I won't bite.”  
               Liera’s brow furrowed, but she did what she was told.  
_“This was the guy who gave me my holotags at Maxson’s address.”_  
               She plopped the bag on the counter, and he pulled it through the gap in the fence.  
“Looks uncomfortable in there.”  
 “It’s not that bad.  This is the stowage depot, and I...as you probably already guessed...am the ship's Quartermaster, Proctor Teagan.”  
               He extended a handshake through the window, and Liera accepted.  
“If you need to stock up on supplies before you head out on a mission, this is the place to buy them.  Not that you need any more weapons…”  He nodded to the helmet clipped to her belt, “Quite an arsenal you’ve brought with you.”  
“Uh…yeah…” Liera side-eyed him, “We don’t _sell_ equipment to our own soldiers, either.”  
“Since someone dropped a whole bunch of bombs and blew up every single factory that manufactured weapons and ammunition, armament is a little tight around here.  You either trade for weapons, or you pay up.”  
“Hmm…Fair point.” She leaned on the counter and pointed her chin, “How many credits for the laser rifle?”  
               He looked at her as if she’d spoken a different language.  
“Credits?” Rhys chuckled.  
“Er…Yeah, caps…those things I don’t have.  I’m pretty sure I’ve been working for free at this point.”  
“Heh, well…I might have some extra work for you to do, if you wanna make a few on the side.”  
“We’re not trying to have her thrown in the brig, Teagan.”  Rhys crossed his arms, “You can keep your policy-breaking ops to yourself.”  
“Well, I wouldn’t argue with an expert on time in the hole.  What was it, ‘disorderly conduct?’” Teagan snapped, “Get back to work, I’ll take it from here.”  
               Rhys saluted Teagan again with a snarl on his face.  He glared at Liera as he turned around.  
               Teagan slid a bottle of medicine across the counter, “Your earlier prescription.  Might as well take it while you’re here.  Now, back to what we were talking about…Caps on the side.”  
               She watched Rhys leave, “Doesn't sound like official military business to me.”  
“Rules, rules, rules... everyone around here is so obsessed with the damn rules…I hope you're not another one of those by the book military types.”  
“Trust me, I’m not.”  
“Good, because the ‘powers at be’ have me locked in here so I can keep an eye on the Brotherhood's valuables. And since I'm stuck up here manning this one-man zoo...I need someone to do the legwork for me.  You do what I ask?  I pay you caps.  You need them, and I want you to spend them here. It's a match made in heaven.”  
               Liera pinched her temple, “You gonna tell me what I need to do, or just keep trying to sell me on _doing_ it?”  
“Well aren't you the little firecracker…Just what we need.” He snickered, “Garvey isn’t gonna let up, so let me brief you on what’s _really_ going to go down out there tomorrow.  After he shoots any diplomacy in the ass, your mission will be to ensure full cooperation of the civilian farmers.  They won't be too happy about donating their crops, so stick with Gladius and have your robot buddy watch your back.”  
“Donations typically occur when the donator is ‘happy’ to help the party in need.”  She growled, “I’m not sure I follow.”  
“Okay, let me spell it out for you, then: Convince the settlements to support the Brotherhood, or introduce those civilians to the power of persuasion. I got plenty of tools here you could use.”  
               Her teeth hurt when they clamped down on each other.  The vein in her forehead pulsed, and her tongue curled in her mouth.  
“You’d rather just send soldiers to take things from the people that worked for them rather than give negotiations a chance?”  
               He leaned on both hands, “Look, I realize it's not the most glamorous part of the job, but hell, neither is starving.”  
“There are other ways to solve the problem other than uprooting the lives of civilians.”  
“When you find one that works, you let me know.” Teagan grunted, “Dismissed, Knight.”  
“’Dismissed?’  Is that what you say to the families that can’t support themselves after you’ve ransacked their farm?!  Is that what you say to soldiers who come back _proud_ of themselves after they raid a settlement?!”  
“Don’t you take that tone with-“  
“I wasn’t finished.” She bit the sentence off like it was the last she’d ever speak.  
“Yes, Knight.”  Teagan put a pistol on the counter, keeping his finger on the trigger, “You were.”  
“Whoa, whoa, what’s going on here?” Rhys ran over, putting an arm in front of Liera and pushing her back, “What’s gotten in to you?”  
“Your new squad member needs to learn her place around here.  Now get her out of my sight before I do something stupid.”  
“You know what?” Liera yelled while Rhys dragged her away by her collar, “Keep your laser rifle and go fu-“  
               Rhys covered her mouth, and pushed her against the wall, “Enough.”  
               The fleshy mounds of his palm caught between her teeth, and she bit down on them.  
“OW! GODDA-“  
“Don’t you try to muzzle me like I’m some fucking greenhorn.”  She shoved him off, “I have 6, almost 7, years in service.  I’m a Marauder.  I’m a Pil-“  
“You’re a _Knight_ , and that man over there?  He’s your _superior_.”  Rhys held his hand, “Everyone around here’s been pretty lenient with your bullshit, so let me be the one to break the news.  You’re living on the Brotherhood’s good graces.  Your rank back home doesn’t mean _anything_ here.  And you can get over it, or get gone.  Do I make myself clear?”  
               Blood boiled behind her eyes.  
“Crystal.”  
“Good.  Now I’m going to get your gear and take you back to your Quarters. You’re welcome for saving your job.”  
               Liera growled as he walked back to Teagan.  
_“Fuck you.”_

…

               Danse had finished packing and now faded into sleep, his head throbbing against his pillow.  He was tired, but couldn’t turn his mind off.  He reeled over almost dying and everything he saw in the rift…and then there were his worries of meeting the Minutemen.  
               It was nights like these where he wished he’d stayed in Rivet City.  
“Paladin Danse?” Rhys knocked on his door, “Paladin-“  
“Coming…”  
               The floor was cold on his naked feet as he went to greet him.  
“…Yes?”  
               Liera was fuming with a crate in her hand, her nose pinched and her lips stuck in a snarl.  
“What happened?”  
“Her and Teagan got into it.”  
               An angry scowl escaped her, and she ducked passed him into the room.  
“I don’t envy you.” Rhys whispered, “Good luck.”  
“Thanks…”  
               They nodded to each other, and Danse shut the door.  
“Fucking asshole.” Liera slammed the crate on the chest at the end of her bed, “If Teagan’s ‘advice’ is a premise of what they’re expecting me to do, I’ve got fucking news for them: You and I _won’t_ be a part of it!”  
               Danse opened his mouth to respond, but it became clear she wasn’t talking to him.  
“Affirmative, we will not. Pilot, Dr. Talon suggested counting to 10 and taking a deep breath between each number the last time you were reprimanded by a soldier superior in rank.”  
               He watched her pace back and forth.  
“One.”  She filled her lungs, “Two…UGH!”  
               Liera ripped her duffle bag open, throwing items in anger as she packed.  
“So…What happened?” Danse had been scared to interrupt them.  
“Teagan’s under the impression we’re going to take Sanctuary and whatever else ‘by force.’”  She held her arms out, “Is that all I am, now?  The hired muscle?”  
               Danse gulped, “No, that’s not the goal of our mission.”  
“Everyone else seems to think so.”  
“I’d never ask you to do that.”  
“Would you do it, though?  Conquer a settlement with firepower strictly for resources?”  
“No.”  
               She held an M-COR labeled shoulder pad in her hand, “Good, because we won’t be part of some fucking para-IMC.”  
“We just need to get up there and see what we can work out. We’ll do it your way.  I promise.”  
               She exhaled through her nose, “Fine.”  
               Liera unzipped her vest and tossed it on the chair on her side of the room. She lifted her tank top to tug on something.  
“Would be nice if I could sleep without a bra on…” She growled, “Fucking male roommates.”  
“I have to sleep with pants on.  It’s only fair.”  
               That forced her to smile, “You don’t _have_ to.”  
“Soldier.”  
               Liera cackled under her breath, and kept packing.  
               The helmet chirped on her hip, “Pilot.”  
“Yes?”  
“If Recon Squad Gladius is deploying first thing tomorrow morning, tonight may be our last chance to review Nathan Black’s Pilot’s Log in privacy.”  
               A long breath left her chest, “Yeah…That.  Any idea what we’re looking at?”  
“There’s a message repeated in binary code.”  
“What does it say?”  
“0100-“  
“In words, EV…”  
               The helmet went dark, and she didn’t answer.  
“EV?”  
“It says Colony G21.”  
               Liera went rigid.  There was an interruption in her packing, and then she gathered herself and kept going.  
“…Ah.”  
               Danse sat on her bed next to her, “Not good?”  
               She shook her head.  
“I know it doesn’t make it easier, but for what it’s worth, I’ll be here with you.”  
               Liera whispered without looking at him, “Who’s to say it doesn’t make it easier?”  
               She hesitantly picked up the holotape, and made her way to his side.  
“It wouldn’t be so bad if…” Liera squeezed it in her hand before she sat next to him, “This tour was just really, really…”  
“Are you sure you want to review this before you go to sleep?”  
               She jammed the helmet in between them, “Don’t really have a choice.”  
               With a wave of her hand, a holographic display shot from the light on its side.  
“Let’s get this over with.”  She cracked her fingers, and a small keyboard popped up under her hands, “EV, commence playback.”

*** * * ***

               Multiple pairs of footsteps echoed from a hard floor, and the man’s voice bounced off the walls, “These Militia guys are nuts. They had to have taken heavy losses for sure, charging into gas fields like that…”  
“You surprised, mate?  Graves’d been chasing that fleet for weeks.  They probably ran out of jump fuel.”  
“Aye, had to be down to the wire, big time.  I've never seen them fight that hard for anything before.”  
               A third man entered the conversation, “There ain't another fuel station for at least three jumps.  I would’ve blown out the fuel tanks on Victor before handing them over to the Militia…Could’ve _caught_ them that way.”  
               The first man scoffed, “A small fuel rig exploded when I was in the Battle of Orpheus. Took out half our dropships.  Victor’s rigs were double in size, wouldn’t’ve ended well for us.”  
“All I’m saying is there had to be enough fuel in that place to run Angel City for a year.  It’ll power the whole Militia fleet, and we just fuckin’ handed it to them.”  
“And what about the people that lived there?”  Nathan interrupted all of them, “While you three idiots are debating the Militia’s fuel consumption, you’re ignoring the fact that those houses were _empty.”  
_ “When the IMC offers you a crapload of money, you either take it, or take a bullet in the head.”  
“Doesn’t make it right.”  Nathan growled.  
“Besides, that place was the old Eastern Lex Community. Just a'bunch of rich geezers who struck gold.” “No, they struck _oil_.  You're talking like gold is still worth something. Just a figure of speech, now…” Nathan sighed, “My uncle _founded_ that community...”  
“What did he do?  Invent the jump kit propulsion unit or something?”  
“Yeah, actually he did. Good guess.” **  
** A door handle turned, and mechanical hums and clicks silenced the four IMC soldiers.  
_“This is Gridiron to control, Gridiron to control…”  
“Vice Admiral Graves asked for this weeks ago…”  
“Negative, Cardinal-2.  Keep low to the ground, get as many eyes on them as possible…”  
_ “Check out those Pilots,” The first man grunted, “Must be fresh out of Whitehead.  They’re huddling around the console like it’s about to feed them.”  
“Might have something to do with the 20 of us packed into Command, Gary.”  
“Would you guys shut up?” Nathan snapped. **  
** A speaker screeched on.  The keyboard clicks and radio chatter went mute.  
  
**“All personnel, this is Vice Admiral Graves. As you know, the Militia fleet remains operational in the wake of the refueling raid in the Yuma System, and we have deployed probes to a number of sectors. Spyglass will brief you on the results of the search.”  
  
               ** The comms switched, and Spyglass followed, **“Pilots, I have scanned all possible destinations within jump range of the Yuma System. Life forms have been detected in Sector Bravo-217, previously believed to be uninhabited. The Militia forces we seek may be hiding there.  I recommend an advance team led by Sergeant Blisk to investigate…With a suitable complement of supporting units.”  
  
“Very well, so-ordered. All Pilots - gear up and stand by for deployment. Sergeant Blisk has command on the ground, good luck. Graves out.”  
  
**

\---  
  
  
               Blisk hollered over the hazy sounds of a dropship engine, “Sir, we haven’t found any Militia, just a handful of civilians!  But I like the way these Spectres kill, ay!”  
  
**“Copy that, keep looking.”**   Graves ordered over the radio.  
  
“Next-gen automated infantry’s the future, but taking out a bunch of civilians is hardly a test!”  
  
IMC radio comms followed Blisk’s chilling remark, **“Sir! It looks like Militia ships!  They’re deploying ground forces at the north end of the village.”  
**  
“Now that’s a _real_ threat.  Deploy three more racks of Spectres!”  Blisk commanded.  
  
**“Get those other Spectres online, we’ve got Militia Pilots moving in from the east.”  
“Charlie Squad is still rounding up colonists!”  
“Well tell those metal bastards to wrap it up, we’ve got bigger fish to fry!”  
“Copy that!”  
**_  
_ “Listen up, Pilots!  This will be a good test of our new Spectres!  Neutralize every Militia unit in the area!”  The deployment hatch drowned out Blisk’s voice, “Good luck!”

\---  
  
  
               Water splashed under pounding boots.  
“Blisk never told us the Militia would get here so fast!”  
“He probably didn't know!”  The running soldier panted, “We're on the ass end of the Frontier, mate!”  
“This was supposed to be a Spectre testing ground.  Someone tipped off the Militia, for sure!”  
“Testing ground?  They just destroyed this village!” Nathan choked, “Men, women, and children!  No hesitation!” **  
** “Bloody successful test if you ask me!”  
“I’m not asking you!”  
“This is prime real-estate, mate!  Looks a lot like that Earth place from the history books.  No wonder the settlers moved here!”  
“Yeah, except the air is breathable around here.  You been to Earth lately?” **  
**                The soldier grunted, “Nah, Kraken born and raised. Never seen Earth except in pictures.”  
“Must've been some old pictures...”  Nathan snickered.  
  
               Blisk’s radio transmission interrupted them, **“Vice Admiral Graves, the Militia have accessed the distress beacon logs and are attempting to locate the remaining terrorists.”  
**  
**“Blisk, you said this camp was wiped out…find out where the rest of them went.”  
  
**

**“Yes, Sir.  Pilots,** **tear this place apart, search high and low, and keep pushing forward! Leave no survivors!”** Blisk ordered. **  
**  
               Nathan panted as he ran, “Let’s wrap this up before the Titans touch down!” **  
** “Isn’t that why you’re with us?”  
“I might be a Pilot, but that ship…that’s the _MCS Redeye_ up there.”  
“Mate, if that thing goes down, and Bish or Sarah are onboard?” A running soldier whistled, “It would be one hell of a win for the Vice Admiral!”  
“You’re missing the point!” Nathan barked, “If the _Redeye_ is here, that means they’re bringing their best.  Now shut up and watch your sector.” **  
** “Don’t sound so gloom, mate.  We might get a shot at their top brass if you keep your fingers crossed.”  
“Careful what you wish for…”  
“What I _wish_ for is to not be around when the surface-to-air guns come back online.”

\---

               Another military broadcast from Blisk came through, **“Sir, I’ve intercepted an enemy transmission.  Voice only. Playing it now.”  
**  
_“Looks like…finally have found our little corner of the universe…we are not ‘terrorists,’ we are not part of your damn war…we’re falling back to…and, colonists, if you can hear me, do not engage the IMC.  They can’t be reasoned with…”  
  
_                Graves hesitated before answering, **“Spyglass, intercept that signal and clean it up.”**

 **“…You know that voice, Sir**? **”** Blisk asked nervously.

               A long pause followed.  
  
**“…It’s the voice of a dead man.  Spyglass, find out where it’s coming from.”  
  
“Sir, the broadcaster is using an unknown encryption format.  I will require more time to triangulate his position.” ** Spyglass responded. **  
**  
**“Very well.  Blisk, turn that colony upside down if you have to… _Find_ him.” ** Graves snarled.

 **  
“Aye-aye, Vice Admiral.** **Shock tactics Gamma-4, I want soldiers on those roofs now!  Eyes up and watch for Pilots!  Two-One-Eagle-Six, pincer movement!  Theta-6, search the houses for terrorist gear!”**

“Solid Copy. Theta-6 taking gridlines four through eighteen. Moving out!”  
               A door busted open, and various shouts of “clear,” and “no signs of hostiles,” followed.  Shifting items and fabric muffled the microphone, and hands patted down what sounded like a body.  
“Are we sure these aren't just civilians?  They don't really look like terrorists to me.”  
               One of the soldiers scoffed, “And you've been in service for what, two weeks?  Don’t let that transmission fool you, I've lost plenty of good men to plain-clothes insurgents…They looked exactly like these people.”  
“Hey, over here - by the window.”  The soldier was whispering, “Take a look at that cliff…Is that an old IMC carrier?”  
“Yea, if you can call that a carrier.  That thing’s seen better days.”  
“Looks like an Andromeda class…” Nathan mumbled, “And the last carrier made in that class was the _Odyssey,_ Grave’s old ship.”  
“The one you-know-who stole?”

  
**“Vice Admiral Graves, I have the enemy transmission.  Patching in.”** Blisk cut in.

_“We didn’t want any part of your war, so you brought it to our doorstep?!  Those were civilians getting slaughtered!”  
  
_

**“Spyglass!  Open a channel!”** Graves ordered. **  
“Yes sir.”  
               ** Blisk clicked his tongue, **“Who is this guy?”  
“He’s a former IMC Commander, wanted for mutiny...”  
               ** Spyglass interrupted them, **“Channel open, Vice Admiral.”  
** Graves sighed into the comms, his voice coarse and deadly, **“You should have stayed gone, MacAllan…”  
“Graves…” ** James growled through grit teeth, **“You’re still on the wrong side, aren’t you?”  
“We’re soldiers, Mac.  You’re dreaming if you think you can sit it out.”  
               ** A gun loaded in the background, **“I’m awake now, you son of a bitch.”  
**

*** * * ***

               Danse expected Liera to be tapping away at notes, but she sat there speechless.  The click of EV’s speaker was the loudest thing in the room by the time the recording stopped playing.  Somewhere between the gunshots, the screaming, and the haunting voice of Blisk, she’d slipped away.

“Transmission: Concluded.” EV mumbled, “Playing back personal voice recording…”

**“Using the same words as Nora…Tch, heard your message, loud and clear.  
  
You’re mad, I get it.  I would be too if my colony was murdered.  But tipping off the Militia was your only chance at surviving.  Spyglass’s probes already had Planet Troy marked.  
  
G21 never stood a chance against the Spectres…I’m sorry I couldn’t warn you in time.**

**For what it’s worth, I tried.”  
**

*** * * ***

               The squiggling line on the display went flat.  Liera was speechless, digging through menus and documents too quick for Danse to read their labels.  
_“She’s obviously done this before.”  
_                In the deafening silence, he heard her swallow hard.   
“Hey…” He leaned closer, and she shied away from him like he was made of fire.  
“EV, pull up Victor Petrov’s file.” She was laser-focused on the floating screens.  
               A new one popped up, and she extended her fingers to enlarge it, “Petrov invented the jump kit propulsion unit 220 years ago for warehouse workers who were responsible for unloading the IMC’s starships during the first expedition.”  
               Danse looked at the picture of the older man, “Nathan said he was his uncle.  Does that mean Victor was Garrison’s brother?”  
“If he was, it’s undocumented.  Learned a lot about Petrov in history class.” She shook her head, “The Eastern Lex Community was one of the first established colonies on Planet Victor, named after Victor Petrov…And 200 years later, it was the battleground for Operation: Fracture, the site of the refueling raid you heard on the tape Brandis found.”  
“So that’s what they were talking about, in the beginning?”  
“Yeah.  We called the community Site M-41…First planetary evac in 50 years before the IMC started drilling.  Numbers got so high we had to start adding letters…”  
               Danse ran his hand through his hair, “What happened to the people that lived there?”  
“They’re rich folks who ended up in tents on Harmony.  They used their deep pockets to upgrade our Titan repair facilities so we could fight the IMC better.”  
“Interesting.” Danse smirked, “The IMC unknowingly paid their enemy.”  
“Didn’t stop them from basically _cremating_ an entire colony…While we were fleeing from Victor, we went to Planet Troy in response to a distress beacon.  They followed us, and used Colony G21 to…” She was caught up on her words again, “It was the first time we encountered the Spectres.”  
“I…Can’t imagine how hard this must be for you.”  
“It is hard, but…well…” She smiled to herself.  
“What?”  
“Perspective gives you an advantage in this war.”  
“A sound observation.”  
               She leaned on her elbow, “I wish I knew why Nathan was leaving all these Logs around instead of talking with me directly.  There’s got to be a purpose…”  
“There was a lot of information in there.”  
               Liera cocked her chin, “What do you mean?”  
“In the beginning, Nathan was obviously upset by the settlers being displaced from the Eastern Lex Community.  At the end, he told…MacAllan, I’m guessing…that he tipped off the Militia in an attempt to save _this_ colony.”  
“Commander Briggs _did_ seem sure of herself when we were deployed to 217…I guess getting a tip from her little spy would be why.”  
“I think he’s trying to build your trust.”  
               She raised a brow, “Why wouldn’t he just come talk to me, then?”  
“Maybe he can’t.”  
“Maybe…At the very least, it’s safe to say we can confirm Nathan underwent cryogenic preservation, just like Nora.  The way he talked about Earth, like he knew about the bombs falling.  And I wonder which words of MacAllan’s words were the ones ‘Nora said.’”  Liera rubbed the sides of her head, “I guess we’ll have to wait and see what he left for us at Vault 111…”  
“Pilot, I recommend you take the prescribed medication before sleeping tonight.”  
               She snickered, “I’ll pass.”  
“You do realize you were only cleared for active duty because you agreed to take that medication.”  Danse gave her a stern look.  
“Didn’t seem to stop you guys from sending me to Fort Strong.”  
“You didn’t have the medicine then.  Now, you do.”  
“It’s the same bullshit they prescribed me back home.  It dulls my senses and makes me inefficient at my job.”  She dug the bottle out of her pocket and tossed it on the nightstand, “I thrive on stress.  I think quicker. You take that away, and I’m just…I’m not as good.”  
               She bent an arm behind her and slipped a hand under her tank top, “I can’t afford to be ‘not as good.’”  
               Liera traced her spinal implant, “I forget it’s there sometimes…I’ve been told you can see the lights through my jumpsuit, but I never knew if that was everyone just messing with me.”  
               He leaned back to look, “Well, you can see them through your shirt, but not the jumpsuit.  Mystery solved.”  
“Good.  Last thing I need is more lights giving away my position.” She smirked, “You know, what with my new holotags, and all.”  
“They’re more than a fashion statement…They glow so soldiers don’t get their comrades confused with the enemy.”  
“Told you, EV.  They _do_ serve a purpose.”  
“It is unlikely you’d be confused with anyone else on the field, Pilot.”  
“Hmph.”  
               Danse got up and stretched, moving towards his bed, “Take your medicine or don’t take it.  Just think about the other people who are counting on you to have your wits about you before making a decision.”  
               Danse laid down and looked up at her, “What?”  
               She seemed sad, staring at him in silence.  
“Nothing.  Night.”  
               Liera flicked the light switch, and her mattress squeaked.  
“Good night…” He mumbled, rolling under his blanket.  
_“I hate it when she looks at me like that.”_

…

_The dropship circled, slowing down near white letters spelling S.O.S. on a roof.  Flares blazed in the middle, flickering in columns of smoke from the fires that burned around them.  A tower made of scrap metal in the colony's center read, “G21.”  
**“Mayday, Mayday!  We are a small civilian colony on Planet Troy.  We are under attack from IMC forces and require immediate assistance!  Please send help! Embedding coordinates!”**  
               Sarah leaned outside the entry way, barking inaudible orders.  
               Liera blinked, and then she was on the ground.  A light rain dampened her jumpsuit, and the patchy grass was soft and wet.  
               A burnt, flaky corpse held a smaller one in its blackened arms.  Ryan crouched next to them, shaking his head, “A woman and a child.”  
               Liera’s vision blurred, and she turned to her right.  Chris sent his robot scout ahead, reading it’s reports on his collapsible LED display, “Ain’t nobody alive ‘round here.  Fuckboys cleared this whole goddamn colony…”  
“I’m fixin’ to return the favor.” Liam crouched next to a dead IMC soldier, and snagged the helmet from their head.  He walked back to his trained Prowler, and held it to his nose.  
“You got the scent, Rex?”  
               Rex growled, and his plated spikes flared.  
“Let’s go get ‘em boy.”  Liam gripped his Kraber-AP sniper rifle.  
“Wait.” Sage held up her hand, and used a tool to peel back a sample of a body’s black coating, “The weapons that caused this…Plasma damage, voltaic in nature.”  
**“Contact!  Marauders, IMC’s got some kinda robot infantry-“**   A Pilot’s signal faded into white noise.  
“Time to lay the beatdown.” Ryan cocked his EVA-8 shotgun, “Lastimosa, on me.  Miller, get to a vantage point and keep Rex close by.  Talon, Grenier  – fan out and give our Riflemen some backup.  We’ve got 5 minutes until the Titan Carriers get here.”  
“Copy that.” Liam deployed his grapple, and Rex climbed a pile of debris to follow.  
“Don’t gotta tell me twice.” Chris clicked the safety off his CAR SMG, and took off down an alley.  
“On it.” Sage unslung her Tempest Bow and disappeared.  
               Liera’s Hemlok trembled in her hands, “Women?  Kids?”  
“They don’t care who they kill. Anyone not wearing the IMC badge is an insurgent or a terrorist in their eyes.” Ryan closed his visor, “Perspective gives you an advantage in this war…and they don’t have any.”_

…

               Liera sat up like a corpse rising from the dead. Her lungs inflated so quickly they stung.  Cold sweat beaded on her skin.  
_“I’m on the Prydwen.  Planet Earth.”  
_                She ran a hand down her face, exhaling through puffed cheeks as she calmed herself down.  Her blanket was on the floor, tangled with her top sheet.  
_“Not my favorite method of making a bed look like this.”  
_                Her legs swung to the edge of the mattress, and picked up her wrist computer from her nightstand.  She opened the screen, the brightness blinding her tired eyes.  
_“02:00.  5 hours of sleep’ll do.”  
               _ The clock disappeared, and a notification was muted before a chat window opened.  
_  
_ Message Window (opened by Admin):  
_  
_ []WARDEN[]: Pilot, the sertraline prescribed to you by Dr. Ivy Talon remains in my medical supply reserves.

_MAVERICK is typing…_

[]MAVERICK[]: I’m fine, EV.

[]WARDEN[]: You are not.

_MAVERICK is typing…_

[]MAVERICK[]: Just give me a second to breathe, Jesus Christ.  
_  
_                She sighed, and tossed the computer next to her.  
_“In.  Hold. Out. Wait.”  
_                She controlled her breathing, trying to calm herself down.  
               But the stench of burnt colonists clogged her lungs and swept the moisture from her mouth.  Her ears rang from gunshots, and with every draft from the fan, she fought the urge to dodge enemy fire.  With every blink, she’d see a Spectre.  They were closing in, marching to the pulse of Titans landing on the battlefield.  
_“’Just think about the other people who are counting on you to have your wits about you.’”  
_                Danse slept peacefully in front of her, releasing a snore and tossing on his side.  
_“I’ll have my wits about me, alright…"  
_                It wouldn’t be long before she was geared up and heading down to the airport.

…

               Danse awoke with a start.  A second knock on the door made him wince.  
“Paladin Danse?”  
               Rhys.  
“He’s probably still asleep…”  
“It’s 04:05, Haylen.  He’s never late.”  
               Their voices were muffled.  
_“Late?!”  
_                He sprang out of bed, and stopped when he realized the bed next to him was empty and Liera’s duffle bag was gone.  He swiped his holotags and ripped the door open.  Rhys and Haylen were both fully geared and ready to go.  
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Rhys frowned.  
               Haylen yawned next to him, “Long night?”  
               Danse rushed to his locker.  
“I must’ve forgot to set my alarm...”  
“No, it was set, alright.” Haylen picked it up, “Snooze.  Hm.”  
“I don’t know what happened.” Danse almost tripped as he pulled a jumpsuit out and ran to the bathroom, “I just need to get changed and get my Power Armor.  I’ll be quick.”  
               He dropped his sweatpants and pulled the jumpsuit up around his body, listening to the conversation from the other side of the door.  
“Where’s Lastimosa?” Haylen asked.  
“Eh, who knows?  I’m sure she’ll show up.”  
“She’s not a stray dog, Rhys.”  
               Danse rolled his eyes as he brushed his teeth.  
“You know what? You’re right.  She’s more like a stray bomb that you just kind of wait to explode.  Then it’s like, ‘Oh, there she is.’”  Rhys laughed.  
“That’s…actually pretty insightful.”  Haylen chuckled, “Even I have to agree with you.”  
               Danse threw some toiletries in a bag before lifting the toilet seat to take a piss.  
_“I don’t know why I wasn’t warned when I signed on that the Brotherhood’s just a bunch of smart asses.”_

… 

               The air was cool, and a light mist rolled in from the ocean.  The Brotherhood hadn’t got to work yet, and the airport was quiet.  Liera found it unnerving to be down there with it still being dark out, even with a red line burning on the horizon.  
               She took a break from scrubbing the blood and saltwater out of her cockpit chair to check the time.  
_“4:15…they’re late, and this cockpit still fucking stinks.”  
_                She wiped sweat from her forehead, and kept going while her helmet charged.  
“So, Nora was put in a cryopod.  It’s heavily implied Nathan was too.  We learned Marder was in one during our time in the rift.  And…You think the Evelyn Hammond we heard about…” Liera bit into her protein bar, chewing it as she wiped down her console, “You really think she’s…well, you know, mom?”  
“During the flashback sequences in the time rift, Garrison Black mentioned that Evelyn Hammond and a group of colonists hijacked an IMC carrier containing 3 cryopods and their corresponding servers.  He then indicated that they were falling back in the ‘Freeport System close to Planet Harmony.’  The biological research station you and the Marauders found on the exoplanet circling Planet Harmony housed exactly 3 cryopods and their corresponding servers, however damaged.  Conclusion: Yes, I do believe the Evelyn Hammond mentioned in the time rift is the same person as your mother.”  
               Liera’s chewing became more vicious, “Why the fuck did all these people freeze themselves?”  
“An unlikely response after my thorough analysis.”  
               She threw her cleaning tools on the ground and walked away, putting her hands on her hips.  
“You know how I get when I have no idea what’s going on.  And all we keep finding are pieces to a puzzle that we don’t have a picture for…”  
“Nathan addressed his squad as being located at ‘gridlines four through eighteen.’  Pilot’s Log ‘L.LASTI_COLONY_G21’ contains segments recorded at these coordinates.  Perhaps we may find insight in review.”  
               She hesitated, “We already know who he is, EV.  There’s no use in digging up old skeletons…Not this time, at least.”  
“Considering the content of Nathan’s audio logs that may appear in the future, a physical companion is best for times of painful reflection should you be forced to review your own Pilot Logs.”  
“You’re here, aren’t you?”  
“It has been made apparent that I cannot comfort you in the same ways Paladin Danse can, both physically and emotionally.  Also, if I were to become inoperable, a trusted companion would be beneficial to you.”  
“EV…” She turned around to the opened cockpit doors, “Don’t say stuff like that.”  
“Your current mental state and my obligation to honor Protocol: 3 requires me to.”  
               Liera’s fists tightened, “I’m fine, EV.  My current mental state is _fine._ ”  
“On the contrary.  You have not taken either prescriptions issued by Dr. Talon or Knight-Captain Cade.”  
“For the love of-“ She held her arms out, “What’s with you?!”  
“I am concerned for your well-being, especially in regard to these tapes.”  
“I already _lived_ through these assaults!  You think watching my Logs or listening to Nathan’s recordings does shit to me?!” Liera shouted, “You were there, you know-“  
               The burst of anger took even herself by surprise, and she bit her tongue.  
“This right here, all this pent-up rage.  This is what pushes everyone away…I’m sorry.”  
“An apology is unnecessary.  On the bright side, we have now confirmed that the _Prydwen_ is not too high for your jump kit to break your fall.”  EV consoled, “That knowledge will be beneficial should the Brotherhood turn hostile.”  
               Liera grunted, “Yeah…”  
“My only request is that you do not replace me with a suit of Power Armor.  I would judge the decision critically.”  
“Hey, I might be itching to try one out, but you’re not replaceable. Not by any armor, _or_ person.  You’re my best friend, and my partner…Nothing will ever change that.”  
“Your reassurance is…enlightening.”  EV was quiet, “Thank you, Liera.”  
“No need to thank me.”  She sighed, and sat on the ground next to EV, “I just need to figure out what all this means...”  
“I’ve made a connection that may be of assistance.”  
               She looked up to EV’s huge chassis, “What’s that?”  
“Garrison Black identified a power source named, ‘the Ark.’”  
“We already knew about that from the Swamplands expedition. That’s why we located and started investigating Typhon in the first place, remember?”  
“Correct.  What we did _not_ previously have information on was the mentioned ‘artifact’ in the mountains that was under excavation.”  
               Liera tapped her chin, “…You think that’s what Grenier found on Typhon that made Broadsword launch early?”  
“I do.  And the reports of lapses in time, or ‘glimpses into the past from those who came before,’ as Garrison put it, are quite disconcerting.”  
“We ran into those during Operation: Grizzly…”  
“Then you remember how gruesome they were.”  
               Liera huffed, and pushed herself to her feet, “We Remember.  We _always_ remember…”  
               She looked over her shoulder, up at the _Prydwen_.  There weren’t any Vertibirds coming down, just a light drizzle and a cold mist.  
“I don’t know how Anderson was able to pull off what he did…But I’m scared it opened the door wide open to the trap the 9 th Militia Fleet flew in to.”  
               Her chest was tight, and her face was on fire.  She choked down her sorrows, and unplugged her helmet.  
“Where’s my second tech glove?”  
“Underneath the cockpit with the rest of your emergency replacement items.”  
               Liera clamped her helmet to her collar, and snapped each glove to her wrists.  
               She beat her fists together, “Play me some music and run the Mayday simulation.”  
               EV closed her cockpit doors, and scrolled through a long playlist that showed up on Liera’s visor.  She made a decision, and an [angry beat](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h6sFG7qOd4A) started playing.  
“Good choice.”  
               Staying crouched, a beam of light sprang from EV’s ocular hub.  The world was dismantled and rebuilt into a simulated training arena.  
               The room was small with a few lights on the black, steel ceiling.  The floor was made of blue lines that formed a grid.  Labels that said, “Restricted Access,” and warning strips ran across the outermost walls.  
               The opposing side was blue with a shield in the middle.  Liera paced in front of the orange lights of her side that was decorated with a symbol of bullets, indicating she was the assaulting party rather than the defender.  
“What level difficulty should I put it on?”  
               Liera cleared the menu, “No presets.  Give me your best shot, EV.”  
“My best shot would surely render you discouraged.”  
“Challenge accepted!”  She flexed her fingers, “It’s time to self-medicate.”

…

               The _Prydwen_ was different before the reveille sounded.  Their footsteps were louder without the military chatter around.  The humming of the ship’s operating systems kept them company, and if Danse hadn’t known who was responsible for maintaining them, he’d have been surprised they sounded so healthy.  
               Pots and pans were banging around from the Mess Hall’s end of the corridor, and a loud, “SHIT!” echoed off the walls.  
“Never knew how the Mess Hall Officer gets up as early as he does every day.” Rhys looked behind him as they continued towards the Power Armor Bay.  
“It’s easy to forget how much we depend on the _Prydwen’s_ staff.”  Danse ate his measly breakfast as he walked, trying to prevent any mess from getting on the floor.  
               Up ahead, Proctor Ingram cranked at a bolt on the back of a suit of Power Armor.  She cracked her neck, shouting down the hall, “About time!  Was wondering if you were alive, holed up in that room of yours!”  
“Overslept…” He growled, tossing his meal’s packaging in a trashcan.  
“How? You’re about as good at sleeping as these new recruits are with a wrench.”  Ingram stood, her Power Armor’s frame looming in front of his bodiless suit, “Speaking of which, when am I going to have my favorite side kick back?”  
“Soon, probably.” He stretched, “That X-01 suit I spent months on took a nose dive.”  
“I heard.  Nice work, Danse.   Planning an underwater recovery op for the rarest type of Power Armor.  Can’t say I’ve done that before.”  
“Go ahead, keep rubbing it in.” He snapped the button on his hood, covering his head, “I’m sure I’ll be hearing jokes about it all year.”  
“Oh, you will.  You should’ve heard some of the ones Quinlan’s been cracking.”  
“You’re all a bunch of comedians.”  He paused, “Have you seen Lastimosa?”  
“No.  Would’ve been nice if you introduced me to her, though.”  
               Danse raised his brow, “You? Wanting to meet a new recruit?”  
“Quinlan too.  She’s not a recruit anymore.  She’s one of us, now.  We’ve all got a lot of questions.”  
“I think she’s getting tired of those.”  
“Then she shouldn’t have come to the Commonwealth with a 20-foot robot and technology that outpaces ours by hundreds of years.”  
               He laughed, “I’ll tell her you said that.”  
“Good.  Now suit up and get outta’ here unless you’re gonna help me keep this ship in the air.”  
“Under orders to deploy as soon as possible.”  Danse shrugged, “Guess that leaves me no other choice but to leave.”  
               She blew a piece of hair out of her face, “Must be nice.”  
“I’m sure you’ll be back out there in no time, Proctor.”  He climbed in his suit, and the visual HUD came online.  
“We’ll see…” Ingram put her hands on her hips, “How’s it feel?”  
“Brand new.  Good work, soldier.”  
“Wonderful.  Try to keep it in one piece this time?”  
“You can’t blame me for wrecking my first suit…”  
“I can.  And I will.”  She waved her wrench, “Good luck out there.”  
               Danse picked up his laser rifle from the rack, and Haylen stocked up on ammo.  
“Luck…” He loaded his gun, “I’ve got all the luck I need right here.”

…

               EV’s IMC Pilot avatar appeared in front of Liera, and she paced in a circle with it.  They waited for each other to make the first move.  Her breathing was steady, and her steps were precise.  Allowing her predatory instincts to completely take over was revitalizing.  
               An shift in weight from the enemy put her on guard, and a grapple flew towards her. She allowed herself to be caught, pulling the knife from her holder.  Liera slid along the ground with her jump kit increasing her velocity, dodging the bllets that rained above.  She caught the grapple in her hand and pulled herself up, launching ahead.  Her knife impaled the avatar’s chest, and her knees landed on its abdomen.  She skated on top of it before it’s body exploded in a mess of squares.  
               Another Pilot appeared behind her.  Liera rolled to avoid being kicked and grabbed its leg, snapping it over her knee and elbowing the Pilot in the face with her prosthetic.  Another collage of digital shapes.  
“That all you got?!”  
               A foe came down from above.  She jumped backwards, her feet sliding along the virtual floor.  Her jump kit pushed her forward, and her fist caught the avatar’s stomach with such strength it buckled over.  Lunging to the side, Liera used all her force to lift it up and over her shoulder in an arch.  She slammed it into the ground on its back, and withdrew her fist from its disintegrating body.  
“Stop holding back!”

…

               Danse and his team exited onto the Flight Deck, the Vertibirds’ engines roaring, ready to go.  
“Lancer Rico,” He said from behind his helmet, “Have you seen Knight Lastimosa?”  
“I don’t know where she is.” Rico leaned against the railing, “I didn’t see her catch a Vertibird.  Her Titan might know, though…I’ll take you down so you don’t have to wait.”  He hesitated, “Hey, can I ask you a question?”  
“Of course, Lancer.”  
“Maxson has all the Vertibirds coming to and from the airport unloading a bunch of strange materials and parts…and there’s been a huge section of the airport barred off for a project.  He’s building something big.  Any ideas?”  
               Danse shook his head, “Not a clue.  That would explain why we’re not getting lifted to Sanctuary, though…”  
“Yeah, sorry about that. You know I would in a heartbeat.”  Rico sighed, “I’m stuck babysitting Nora…”  
“What for?” Haylen peaked out from around Danse.  
“I’m picking her up from Fort Hagen today.  Something about her son.  Don’t know.  I’ve just heard stories about people that travel with her, and, well-“  
“Stories are stories, Lancer.  You’ll be fine.” Rhys patted his shoulder, “You flew us in this bird to Fort Strong and made it back with minimal damage.  You’re good at what you do, soldier.”  
               Rico smiled, and shook his hand, “Thank you, Knight Rhys.”  
“Anytime, Brother.”  
               Danse cleared his throat, “Alright, Lancer.  Take us down.”  
“Sure thing, Paladin.”

…

               An IMC Pilot kicked Liera’s Hemlok from her hands before pumping a shotgun and taking aim.  She grabbed the barrel as it discharged, using the kickback to elbow the Pilot in the face.  She kicked them away and shot at them, but the figure disappeared and faded.  
_“A decoy.”_  
               She turned around, and the Pilot caught her in the mouth before taking its weapon back.  Liera used the back of her forearm to turn the shotgun away from her, slicing at the Pilot’s throat with her knife.  They dodged in a back step, dropping the emptied weapon and pulling its pistol.  
               Liera pulled up an A-Wall particle shield, ducking behind it before firing her Wingman.  She hit the Pilot’s grenade, and it burst into a thousand blue pieces.  
               Another avatar Pilot came from the air, and she shuffled to the side before engaging her cloaking device.  She jumped, catching its head between her legs and snapping it with a quick turn of her knees.  
“Not fast enough!”  
               And then two Pilots spawned at once. _  
_                Liera shot her grapple, hooking on a Pilot’s gun and snatching it.  She shot the avatar with its own weapon before hitting the second one behind her with its stock.  The Pilot stumbled in place, and Liera grabbed it by its flak jacket to use its body as a meat shield.  
               Bullets from a newly spawned Pilot threatened to tear through, but Liera continued to use the now-dead-body to cover her charge.  She fired blindly from around it.  The other Pilot moved, and she reacted.  Liera pulled the Fire Star from the bleeding corpse’s belt and threw it to her side, setting her stalking perpetrator on fire.  
“That’s more like it, EV!”

…

               There were blue figures projecting out of EV’s hub, armed with digitized weapons that matched Liera’s.  Her enemies dispersed and spawned, coming at her from all angles.  She moved with fury and precision, not stopping to catch her breath once.  Each time she’d be victorious, the hologram assailant would shatter and float away.  
“Well…” Danse sighed, “We found her.”  
               Another Pilot came down from above, pinning her to the ground.  Liera’s pistol escaped her grip, and she clawed for her enemies’ holster.  
“Fuck-“ She pushed the Pilot off, rolling to her chest and stumbling to her feet.  
“She’s getting tired.” Rhys noted.  
“I don’t think she’s down for the count yet.”  
“We taking bets?”  
“Sure." Danse snickered, "50 caps says she wins.”  
               The enemy Pilot pulled up a personal-sized barrier, and fired 3 shots before reloading.  Liera disappeared, and the avatar looked around frantically.  
               Rhys snickered, “Turning invisible.  Cheap trick.”  
“You’d do it if you could.” Haylen pursed her lips.  
               Liera appeared behind the Pilot, and put it in a chokehold.  Reacting almost instantly, the Pilot reached behind itself and pulled at her shoulders.  She was flipped over, but instead of landing on the ground, she rolled to her feet and drew her knife.  
               The Pilot patted itself down, having lost its own guns in the quarrel.  It withdrew its own blade, and raised its hands.  
“Talk about bringing knives to a gun fight!” Liera sprinted at the avatar, and it ran at her the same.  
               Liera blocked a punch, swinging at the Pilot.  It ducked and returned the motion, causing Liera to take a step back.  She brought her heel around, aiming for the Pilot’s wrist.  It crouched just in time, charging its shoulder against her stomach in a jump kit-fueled push.  
               They slid a good distance, Liera on the bottom.  Her knife clanked across the ground, and her legs wrapped around the Pilot.  She rolled on top of it, her prosthetic arm holding the avatar in a chokehold.  
               Liera screamed as the Pilot stabbed her in the side just before it crumbled into a flurry of blue specs.  
“Looks like I win.” Rhys shrugged.  
“Hold on, Knight.  You can’t make up a shout that painful.”  Danse grimaced, “You don’t think she…actually got hurt, do you?”  
“Don’t know, but after being stuck like that, I sure hope not.” Haylen sighed, “I definitely don’t have enough gauze for that kind of wound if their combat knife is as long as hers.”  
                Rhys held in a laugh.  
“Really, Rhys?” Haylen facepalmed, “’Is this where you make a ‘size doesn’t matter’ joke?’”  
“Wait, she’s getting up!” Danse held a fist in the air, “Knock them dead, Lastimosa!”

...

               Liera forced herself to her feet, looking at the knife stuck in her hip, “Shit-“  
               She couldn’t breathe.  The searing pain made her head throb and threw her off balance.  But EV didn’t give her time to recover.  
               An enemy punched the side of her helmet.  Liera yelped as she fell, landing on the knife’s handle.  She let loose a blood-curdling cry, and her vision doubled.  
_“Can’t…Lose-“  
_                A click came from behind her.  She pushed off the floor, her palms slipping in her own blood.  
_“Not like this.”  
_                A bullet impaled the grid where she was only seconds ago, ricocheting away from her.  Liera rolled to her back just in time to see the Pilot aiming at her again.  She slapped the side of her jump kit, and it pushed her out of the way until the back of her neck collided with a wall.  Again, she avoided being shot.  
               Liera used her wall-hang arm to help herself stand, and sent a holo pilot out before hitting her cloak.  She couldn’t do much about hiding her bloody footprints, but it bought her enough time to get close enough to the Pilot.  
               Using what perseverance she had left, she took the knife’s handle in her slick hands and yanked it from her side.  
“HEY!”  She called, “I think this belongs to you!”  
               Liera stabbed the avatar.  Once.  Twice.  Five times.  Ten.  
               All the anger, frustration, sadness- everything from the last week was behind each thrust.  Her visor was covered in a red, slimy curtain.  The only thing that got her to stop was EV finally dispersing the body and giving Liera a new target.  
               Footsteps pounded from behind, and she blindly backhanded her cybernetic arm in a last attempt to win.  Her fist hit the side of the Pilot’s helmet, hitting a button and opening its visor.  Yelling through the pain, she caught the generated face in her hand.  
“Nice…TRY!”  
               With a savage roar, she squeezed her prosthetic until the head burst.  
               The crunch of a skull in her palm satiated her hunger, and the burning from her side became too much.  
               Liera fell to one knee, clutching her wound.  
“EV-…Stop-the-“ She coughed, “Simulation-“  
               Her muscles ached and her breaths were short and painful.  She took her helmet off and let it roll in front of her, music pouring from the now-empty shell. She pushed her wet strands of hair back behind her forehead, rolling on her back and gasping at the sky.  
“That- was- a- good,” She shot her left arm to the edge of the cockpit, using her right to hook her elbow on the ledge, “Run-“  
               Balancing on her hips, she fumbled with the cabinet to pull a bottle of water.  Still half-bent over the cockpit, she gulped until the bottle crinkled, using the last quarter to douse herself with coolness.  
               She shook her head wildly, sending drips of water all over the place.  
“Pilot…Behind you.” EV whispered.  
               Liera looked over her shoulder.  Rhys and Haylen stood on either side of a suit of Power Armor, presumably Paladin Danse.  
_“Great.”_

…

               Danse sighed, “One of you _not_ in Power Armor should make sure she’s okay.”  
“You see that?  She just exploded someone’s head with her hand.  I’m not going anywhere near her right now.” Rhys crossed his arms, “Nuh-uh.”  
“Stop being such a baby.” Haylen scoffed.  
“I don’t see _you_ rushing over to say hello.”  
“Fine.  I’ll do it.” Danse put his helmet down and got out of his Power Armor, “You two are ridiculous…”  
               Liera eyed him with hostility as he approached her, panting and sweating while hanging off EV with an empty bottle in her hand.  
               He lowered his voice, Haylen and Rhys chatting behind him, “That’s a waste of perfectly filtered water.”  
“Worth it.”  
               Her voice was coarse and rough, her chest rising and falling rapidly.   
               Danse pursed his lips, and knelt on one knee, “You okay?”  
“Yep.  Been down here since 02:30.”  Her knees rattled as she struggled to stand, and quickly fell back on the ground, “You’re late.”  
               He stood and offered a hand.  She hesitated before grabbing it, allowing him to help her on her feet.  
“Did you sleep at _all?_ ”  
               She swiped her mouth, “Long enough.”  
“How did you get down here?”  
               Liera patted the jump kit on her waist, “I jumped.”  
“You-“ He lowered his voice from a shout to a loud whisper, “ _JUMPED_ off the _Prydwen?”  
_ “Sure did.  Felt nice.  Wouldn’t recommend trying it though.”  
               She threw the bottle next to her seat, and groaned as she knelt to get her helmet.  She dried her face off with her shemagh.  
“Seeing you tear through Super Mutants is one thing, but watching you destroy a band of other Pilots…”  
“Like what you saw?”  
“I, uh…Yes.  I did.  You’d be a formidable enemy.”  He rubbed the back of his neck, “You were on the _Redeye,_ weren’t you?”  
               The question caught her off guard.  Her brow furrowed, “I was.  It was the flagship of the 1st Militia Fleet.  What of it?”  
“Nathan said it ‘meant they brought their best.’  I was just curious.”  
“Danse.” Liera flipped her helmet over her head, and cockily held her arms to her sides, “Ever ask yourself why they sent EV and I by ourselves?”  
               His face burned, and he felt a strange surge of unexpected fear run through him as the image of her violently stabbing someone repeatedly played in his mind.  
               And for some insane, impure reason…it drew him to her more.  
“Don’t just stand there slackjawed, Paladin.”  She climbed in her cockpit, and the braces held her against the seat, “We’ve got an alliance to make!”  
               The doors shut, and EV stood at her full height.  
               Danse got himself together, and looked back at his squad.  
_“Or a civil war to start…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Behind the Scenes:**  
>  Check out [Chapter 41](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10296845/chapters/29053899) of _"The Archive,"_ for more custom FO4/Titanfall screenshots and some commentary!
> 
>  **Author's Note:**  
>  November 11th marked Veteran's Day in the United States. At this time I'd like to thank all of our soldiers, past and present, who have served defending our country and freedom. Upon writing this chapter and researching the everlasting effects of PTSD, I couldn't stress this enough for military personnel and other individuals alike:  
>  **Please find help if you are struggling.**


	24. Dealer's Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"If you look around the table and can't tell who the sucker is, it's you."_  
>  -Paul Newman

* * *

* * *

                aves rolled behind the town, holding the peaking sun hostage on the other side of the collapsed ocean-side structures.  The drizzling rain had ceased, but the wet stain from the storm hung in the air.  A blanket of fog whisked along the earth, ducking and weaving around black buildings jutting into the sky.  It blurred shapes into things they weren’t, only what Danse feared them to be.  
_“Sunrise is only in a few more hours...”  
_                 He clung to the reminder, winding between long-abandoned vehicles that littered the road leading out of the East City Downs.  
_“…A few more hours of this terrorizing darkness.”_  
                His fears played on his weaknesses, filling his mind with images of Ghoul hordes charging at them from the mist; clawing at him with their deformed hands and haunting, yellow eyes.  
                The hairs on his arms raised, and he shuddered under his jumpsuit.  
                His head was on a swivel as he led his team, thankful their backs were covered by EV.  Being in a newly-outfitted suit of Power Armor should have calmed his nerves, but traversing along the front lines in the current weather conditions made his heart rattle.  
“The first thing that jumps out at us is getting a laser to the face.”  Danse stomped along, the red light from his rifle toggling below the bulb in his helmet.  
                He passed under a fallen traffic light pole, switching his cones of light left and right.  With any sound from the rust-colored bushes, his gun was quick to find the source.  Every time they turned direction, he made sure to check their flanks.  
“We’ll use the satellite array as a checkpoint.” He ordered, “It might take longer, but if we stick to the road, we’ll be safer.”  
“Got it.” Haylen answered, her shoulder-mounted light brighter than the rest of theirs.  
“Visibility is shit…” Rhys murmured, “20 feet, maybe 25?”  
“Visibility is noted at 22.24 feet, Knight Rhys.” EV corrected.  
                The light on his helmet lit a line of fog as it turned.  
“Thanks, EV.” He scoffed, “I can’t believe Rico Lancer is flying in this.”  
“It might work to his benefit.”  Danse noted, “Less visibility, less chance an RPG shoots him out of the sky.”  
“What he said before, about Nora and stories or something.” Haylen looped her thumbs on the shoulder straps of her Scribe’s pack, “What was that all about?”  
                Danse’s jaw locked.  
_“She’s reckless and leaves soldiers for dead if it means she survives.”_  
                He unclenched his teeth before answering, “People who travel with her tend to end up in unfortunate circumstances.”  
“Like dying.” Rhys added, “But according to Wolfe, most of those cases have been because of soldiers doing something stupid.  Lancer Rico will be fine.”  
“…I hope so.”  She sighed.  
“What _I_ want to know about is the project Maxson is working on.  I wish I had more time to ask Rico about it.  He said it’s so big, it’s got all the Vertibirds unloading parts from the _Prydwen_ down to the airport.”  
“How about we cut the chatter and focus on our surroundings?”  
“Yes, Paladin...”  
                Danse continued under a collapsed overpass, leaving the road they traveled and hopping onto a new one.  The red light coming from his laser rifle’s barrel only made the scene more sinister.  
_“Should’ve picked a different color.”  
_                 Briefly succumbing to his nerves, he turned his head to EV for solace.  
_“She wouldn’t let anything-“  
_                 The sound of crumbling cement broke his train of thought.  EV struggled to follow them, the aperture of her lens blinking innocently as chunks of highway rolled down her shoulders.  
“Are you…stuck?”  
“Undetermined.”  
                She shrugged off the rubble and pressed forward, the metal mesh of the highway’s innards scraping at her chassis.  The team winced at the screeching noise.  
“Negative.  Rerouting.”  
                Danse cocked his head, and turned his whole body around to watch.  
                She lowered herself to crawl out, four vents opening on her back.  She leapt higher than she had any time before, and blue flames billowed out from the opened covers.  
“WHOA!” Rhys ran away from her, stumbling in place as he took to Danse and Haylen’s side, “Are you _flying?_ ”  
                EV planted herself on top of the overpass, ran to the edge, and jumped off the other side.  She landed a safe distance in front of them.  
“Temporarily, yes.” EV closed her vents, “Sustained flight must only be used in dire circumstances during Lone Wolf operations for energy conservation purposes.”  
“Lastimosa, you didn’t tell us she could _fly!_ ” Haylen squealed in excitement.  
“Pilot Lastimosa is asleep.”   
“She’s sleeping?!” Rhys shouted, “Are you serious?”  
“Yes.  She was quite exhausted from mental stress, lack of sleep, and strenuous activity.”  
**“Not asleep anymore…”** Liera’s groggy voice followed EV’s through her speaker, **“Whoa, what? EV, I leave you alone for half an hour and you engage our Flight Core?”  
** “Destroying the bridge would have further violated Parameter 6: Do not target…infrastructure assets.”  
                Danse exhaled the breath he held in his chest.  
_“The capabilities of a Titan seem endless…How has the Militia kept them under control for so long?”_

 

…

 

                As EV followed the team, Liera watched the Commonwealth wilds in glimpses between buildings; a black wasteland caught between a gray shroud and a starless sky.  She closed her eyes and rested against the back of the cockpit’s chair.  
“Perhaps you should travel on foot, Pilot.”  
                Her brows furrowed, “Why in the hell would I?”  
“We’ve collected very little samples during our stationing here.  I’d like to remind you that we were deployed on a reconnaissance mission.”  
“You want me to go out there, in that, to take samples?”  
“Yes, unless you are afraid.”  
                Liera rolled her eyes, and unbuckled her brace.  She flipped her helmet over her shoulders, “Please, I’m not afraid of the Commonwealth.  The Commonwealth should be afraid of _me._ ”  
                She dialed in for the doors to open.  The sudden noise made the rest of the team jump.  
“Alright, guys.  I’m comin’ out.”  She grabbed her Hemlok before stepping off.  
“Don’t know why.”  Rhys grunted, “If I had a giant robot to carry me around, I’d never leave.”  
“Come now, I’d miss out on quality time with you guys!  Besides, this way you’ve got my gun _and_ hers.”  
“Fair point.”  
                She trotted up next to Danse, and eventually pulled ahead, “I’ll be playing in the dirt if anyone needs me.”  
“You’re what now?” He asked.  
“EV wants samples of…stuff.”  
“You’re going on alone?”  
                She clicked the tactical light on her barrel, and walked briskly away from the road, “Yeah.  Hafta piss.”

 

…

 

                Liera dug through pockets on her belt, the buttons stiff from underuse.  She pulled out a plastic jar, and set it on the ground.  Her knife slipped out of its holder with ease, and she cut a radiated plant at the specific angle Sage taught her.  
“This has got to be my least favorite part of the job…”  
“A necessary task nonetheless.” EV answered.  
                A building’s entrance was lit among the darkness in the form of bulbs strung along wires.  It was a beacon in the deadly town, the only welcoming sight for miles.  Liera sighed at the team who was still trailing behind, their lights bouncing back and forth.  
“Keeping your lights on in the dark…Can’t see without them, but they scream, ‘come attack me here.’”  
“I have not heard any type of screami-“  
                EV stopped talking, and a shout came from the top floor of the illuminated building.  
                Liera stood and shoved the tiny jar in her pocket, bringing her rifle to her front.  
“Lights and screaming, what did I tell you?”  She clicked the radio on her helmet, “Gonna check out this, eh…”  She lifted an overgrown bush to reveal a sign, “East Boston Preparatory School.”  
**“Find something?”** Danse asked over the radio.  
“Don’t know yet.”  
**“Wait for us.”  
                ** She turned on her heel, leaping to EV’s shoulder, and backwards to the roof.  
“EV, get me a quick interior scan.”  
“<<SCANNING>>…”  The word blinked on her visor as EV reached out with her sonar-propelled tendrils, “<<SCAN COMPLETE>>”  
“There is aircraft debris from a downed carrier in this location.  Inhabitants assumed hostile.  Judging by the makeshift jail cell constructed on the first floor, it appears they are holding civilians against their will.”  
                Liera frowned, “Prisoners?”  
“It appears so.”  
                She turned to the team still some ways behind, “I’m going in.”  
**“Hold your position, Knight…”  
** “No time.  Civilians in distress inside.”  
                Danse kept his voice low, **“If you think you can handle it, then proceed cautiously.  Close quarters means no retreat.  Remember that.”**  
“’Retreat,’ he says.”  She pointed a thumb over her shoulder in his direction, turning slightly to give EV a cocky nod, “Hah, this guy…”

 

…

 

                Liera sprinted up the rusted aisle of the plane’s lower half, jumping underneath an overhang to the exposed interior of the school.  She swung from a bent pipe and landed on an island of floorboards.  EV’s scanners started scoping the place.  
_“Two in the room in front of me…Two up the hall…More on the lower levels…All armed with guns.”  
_                 She turned her flashlight off, and attached her grapple to the roof, clutching the tether with one glove as her feet lined up on either side of a window.  
“Keep an eye on Gladius while I clean this place up.”  
“Will do, Pilot.”  
                Using the steel toe of her boot, Liera kicked the upper left-hand window panel, sending glass inwards.  She unstrapped an arc grenade from her belt, and its blue LEDs went live.  
“I hear someone, combat positions!” A voice trailed from the room.  
                She smirked, and pulled the pin with her teeth, lobbing the grenade inside.  
“What the fuck is that thing?!”  
“I don’t know, kick it somewhere!”  
_“3…2…1…”  
_                 A blue flash marked her signal, and she bent her knees to push off the wall.  Swinging her body, her feet busted through the window first.  Her pistol aimed at one stunned person, shooting them in the head before the man next to them.  
                Liera swapped her pistol for her rifle, hitting her cloaking device.  
“Who’s there?” A woman yelled, her footsteps coming closer.  
                Liera turned the corner, her rifle’s barrel snapping to her head.  With a quick pull of the trigger, the woman’s face popped open.  
“It’s far too early to be yelling like that.”  
“You fucking bitch!” The man next to her shouted.  
                Liera shot him before his gun leveled, and he joined the woman on the ground, “What did I just say?”  
                Two more raiders came running up the stairs, a dog barking at their feet.  
“Ah, hell…Don’t make me-“  
                The dog leapt, and the man behind it hollered, “You’re gonna fuckin’ pay for this!”  
                Liera shot it, and ran along the wall as its owner opened fire.  
“You made me kill a dog, asshole!” She came down on him, and used her knife to end his assault.

 

…

 

                Danse and the others stood out front.  White lights flashed behind the dirty windows, a delayed crackle of gunfire following them.  
“Think we should go inside?” Rhys adjusted his metal chest guard.  
                A Raider’s body busted through a window, landing on the ground with a “splat.”  Liera shot her grapple upwards and wall ran in a downwards arc before vaulting through another glass panel.  Shouts echoed from outside the empty window frame, and a gun came flying outside.  
                Danse shifted to one hip, “I think she’s got it under control.”  
  _“Her and EV really take all the fun out of this job…”_

 

…

 

  
                Chains with empty tin cans latched to them hung in the middle of the doorway leading to the stairwell.  
_“Seriously?  They think that'll work?"  
_                 She tried not to laugh, and kept pushing forward.  With her cloaking device activated, she slipped passed the less-than-effective security measure.  
“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” A taunting man hollered.  
                She peaked out from the bottom of the stairs into a lit hallway.  It was lined with sandbag-made barriers, and a body shifted behind a pile of collapsed floor behind them.  To her right, another person came from around the corner.  
                Liera leapt behind them, her rifle landing on her chest with a soft, padding noise as it’s sling held its weight.  She pulled for the armed assailant, wrapping her hand around his mouth and pulling him back into the room.  His muffled screams stopped when she snapped his neck.  
                He was holding something heavy, and it plummeted to the floor.  
“What the hell was that?” A woman called out.  
                Liera picked up what she found to be the man’s empty shotgun.  
_“What did he plan to do with this thing?  Hit me?”_  
                She plucked a few spare shells from his bandolier, stowing them away carefully.  
_“Haven’t used one of these in a while.”  
_                 A muffled cry caught her attention, and she arched her neck to look forward as she straightened herself on her feet.  A young girl, 12 at best, clutched her mouth and sobbed.  A man gripped the bars to his cell, watching Liera intently.  
                Liera held up a finger and pressed it to her visor, the universal signal for, _“Shh…”_  
                They nodded, him more collectively than his female counter part. _  
_                 Liera pressed her back to the wall, and pulled two shotgun shells from her pocket.  Her thumb pressed them in the chamber, and she cocked it with a loud, “chuh-chank.”  
                Pointing the barrel out first, her shoulder rolled against the door frame.  She was put face-to-face with an armed woman, and pulled the trigger.  
_“Has one hell of a kick to it.”_  
                She sent a holo-pilot at the other two.  They took shots at it while she somersaulted into the parallel room to let her cloak recharge.  
“That’s not a person!”  A frazzled voice came from the hall, “What kind of bullshit is this?!”  
                Liera took advantage of their confusion, vaulting over a desk and exiting the room through a door farther away.  She snuck up behind the man and shot him in the back of the head.  She looped the barrel around his friend, and suffocated her last victim before a lifeless body collapsed.  
“All tangos down.” EV confirmed.  
                Letting out a pleasured sigh, Liera observed the shotgun.  
“You and I are going to have a long, beautiful partnership.”

 

…

 

                Haylen’s fingers twitched at her pistol’s grip, “Are you sure she’s okay?”  
“Pilot Lastimosa appears to be in a state of happiness.”  EV’s hub turned towards her, “You have nothing to worry about, Scribe Haylen.”  
                The locked door to the school rumbled.  
“Goddamn it, this thing’s stuck…”  Liera’s voice came from the other side.  
                Something slid and snapped, wood falling on the floor.  
“There we go.”  
                The doors swung open, and she held her hand to her side.  
“That’s all of ‘em!”  She wiped a shotgun on her pant leg, “See? Easy-peasy.”  
“Psychopath…” Rhys mumbled.  
“Where are the civilians?” Danse asked, walking towards her.  
“Still inside.  Figured I’d let you do the talking.”  She stepped out of his way, “After you, Paladin.”  
                She shielded her visor at the bulb in his helmet.  
“Who’d you pilfer the shotgun from?”  
“I believe his name was, ‘Come out, come out, wherever you are.’”  
“Ah.”  
                Danse was sure the floorboards moved with every step he took.  The building was on its last leg, with the middle of it completely collapsed.  
“I feel like I'm going to break something stomping around in here.”  
“You might.” Liera pointed at a hall formed from excavated debris, “Down there, second room on the right.”  
                Danse stepped over dead bodies and blasted sandbags, following her directions.  He grimaced as he turned into an old classroom with aged desks and burnt children’s posters lining the wall.  A message was written on the chalkboard, something about chemistry.  
“This makes me wonder how many children perished when the bombs fell.”  He frowned, “It was truly a sad day for mankind.”  
“They were…just kids…” Haylen picked up a broken beaker, the glass sliding through the gaps between her gloved fingers, “Wanting to learn about science…”  
                Rhys turned towards a poster, mouthing words as he silently read them to himself.  
“Help! Over here!” Someone shouted from the connected room.  
                Haylen snapped to attention, and hurried to her aid.  
“Oh, thank the Lord-“ A young woman cried behind steel bars as Haylen got to work picking the lock, “You’re here to save us.”  
“What happened here, citizen?” Danse asked.  
“The Raiders…they’d come for one of us every night…” The man from the other jailcell sniffed, “Take the poor soul to the top floor.  Torture them.  Then they’d drop the body through the hole over there.”  
                Danse walked to where he pointed, finding a bloody mess pooled in the basement.  
_“That’s horrible, just horrible…I can’t even imagine…”_

 

…

  
                Liera waited for Haylen to pick the second lock, watching her from behind.  
“You folks are with the Brotherhood of Steel, right?” The man extended his hand through the bars, “Name’s Johnny.”  
“Knight Lastimosa.” She shook his hand.  
“Over there’s my sister Susan.  You guys showed up just in the nick of time.”  
                The door screeched open, and Johnny walked out.  
“They almost-“ Susan shook, running to her brother, “They almost got me, Johnny!”  
                Danse turned to them, “Why did they capture you?”  
“We were travelin’ with our caravan, headed to the Hill.  Raiders snatched us up and threw us in here.  Susie and I are the only ones left.”  He held his sobbing sister in his arms, “Say, don’t suppose you guys are headed that way?  We could use the help getting back.”  
“Scribe Haylen?”  Danse looked to her for guidance.  
                She knelt on one knee and unfolded a map, tracing a route with her finger.  
“We’ll be directly passing by Bunker Hill on our way to the Cambridge Police Station, Paladin Danse.  With EV, two civilians shouldn’t be too much of an extra burden.”  
“Eee-Vee?” Johnny nodded at Rhys, “That supposed to be you or somethin’?”  
“No.  It’s the towering robot outside that told us you were here in the first place.”  
                He gently shook his sister, “Hear that?  A robot!  Neat, huh?”  
“I’ll introduce you, if you’d like.  Took the Brotherhood a long time to build her...And this getup they make me wear.” Liera opened her visor, smiling at the young teen, “Right, guys?”  
“Uh-huh.” Rhys yawned, “Yep.”  
                Susan wiped her nose, “O-okay…”  
                Danse and Liera walked side-by-side as they left the school.  
“We need to keep the Commonwealth on a need-to-know basis.” She whispered, “And they don’t need to know their planet is facing IMC invasion.”  
“Too bad _we_ didn’t get that courtesy.” He huffed, “Must be nice.”  
“Eh, you were kind of a dick to EV when we first met.  It was payback.”  
                He laughed under his breath, “Touché.”

 

…

 

  
                EV waited patiently for them outside, scanning the area in a repeated 180-degree motion.  
“This is EV-5649,” Liera put a hand on Susan’s back, urging her to take a step forward, “She won’t hurt you.”  
“A pleasure to meet you both, Johnny and Susan.  You may call me EV.”  
“Holy smokes-“ Johnny fixed the cap on his head, “That’s one big robot!  And it talks?”  
                EV turned to Liera, blinking at her as if she didn’t know what to do.  
“Uh, yeah!  She’s, uh…A great escort…traveling…companion?  We’ll all get you to the Hill safely.”  
“Engaging Guard Mode.” EV announced, seemingly playing along.  
                Liera sighed.  
_“Looks like I’ll be walking the rest of the way…Not like I can explain away the cockpit.”_

 

…

 

                After navigating through the ruins of a destroyed community, they took a right turn down an alley.  A dingy sign read, “Fresh Coffee,” hung in faded yellow over wood that was swelled from saturation.  
“The ruins here remind me a bit of what's left of Washington D.C., the Capital Wasteland.”  Danse was solemn.  
“You miss home?”  Liera didn’t take her eyes off the road, keeping the rest of the traveling team between her and EV.  
“I don’t wish to be back there, but I would find it interesting to visit.  To see where I started, having accomplished what I have.”  
“I think I understand what you mean.”  
                Four satellite dishes loomed out in the reddening sky, towering above rusted fences and uprooted pavement.  
“What’s that light coming from under the array?” Liera squinted at the flickering, bright orange color highlighting the towers.  
“Could be a tire fire.” Rhys answered, “The Revere Satellite Array is a Brotherhood checkpoint, now.  Elder Maxson stationed a few soldiers there to keep your precious satellites safe.”  
“Let’s not forget they’re the reason we can reach the _Prydwen_ from…well, anywhere.”  She looked behind her before whispering to Danse, “And, it’s my only way of contacting the Militia once their comms are back online.”  
“I know.  They’re not jeopardized, don’t worry.”  
“But why would the patrol be burning something around all that sensitive equipment?”  
“The scent keeps the wildlife away.”  
“’Wildlife…’ Is that what we’re calling Ghouls and Deathclaws now?”  
                Danse chuckled, “More like feral dogs, mole rats, bloodbugs, yao guai, those kinds of things.”  
“Can’t wait to see what _those_ are like…could do without more bloodbugs, though.”  
“Huh, I forgot about our run-in with them.  What was it you said when you got bit?”  
“I said my right arm was particularly armored.” She laughed.  
“As in, a metal cybernetically enhanced limb.”  
“If I told you then, would you have believed me?”  
“Probably not.”  
                They cut across the land to get to the checkpoint faster.  A tower of smoke rose from the middle, grounded at a flaming pile of tires.  Liera coughed from the fumes, and they thickened as they reached the gate.  
                Two Brotherhood Knights approached them, another pair of what looked to be Scribes shuffling in the background.  
“Good morning, Recon Squad Gladius.  Elder Maxson told us you might be passing through.  What can we do for you?”  
“Good mor-“ Danse started.  
“Has there been any radio activity from the Militia?” Liera asked, all too hopeful.  
                The Knights looked at each other, and then to her.  
“Negative, Sister…It’s been nothing but Brotherhood relays.”  
                She gave them a slight nod, hiding the disappointment that rushed her.  
“I would have known if they tried to make contact, Pilot.” EV wrote across her screen.  
“I…I know…” She sighed, keeping her voice low, “Was worth a shot…”  
                Liera turned on her heel and walked along the fence, leaving the others to talk amongst themselves.  
“72 hours without contact from Command…”  Her throat became tight, and her heart, heavy, “You don’t think the IMC reached Harmony, do you?”  
“No.  The Outer Ring has prevented an invasion for centuries.  I believe the reason for the communications blackout is Bish’s inability to restore the Frontier Interstellar Communications Network satellites.  If GalaxyNet is down, the IMC must have deployed a series of new scrambling tactics.”  
“Think we can decrypt the old IMC satellites around Earth that Blisk used?”  
“Pilot, if I was able to decrypt IMC satellites, we would have put an end to the them years ago.”  
                Liera swallowed hard, and pulled herself together when the rest of them caught up.  
“Good to keep going?”  
“Affirmative.” Danse kept marching along, taller than ever in his Power Armor, “It should go without saying, but I told them to contact me on my personal radio should anyone from the Militia reach out.”  
“Thank you…Paladin.”  
“You’re welcome, Knight.”  
                She almost wished Haylen and Rhys had stayed behind so they didn’t have to act so formal.  
_“Can’t say I haven’t missed stomping around the Commonwealth with these guys, though.”_

 

…

 

                The sky held a deep purple as they approached the bridge leading away from Boston.  A tower with a light coming up from its base shot through the foggy morning, shaped like a rectangle with a point to it.  
“I feel like a sitting duck without a bunch of rubble to hide behind.” Danse’s voice was hoarse, “Good thing Bunker Hill isn’t too far.  That’s the memorial statue over there.”  
“What’s the matter, getting tired?” Liera scooped some dirt into another jar before trotting over, screwing the lid on tight.  
“My suit doesn’t come with its own functioning AI.  I actually have to walk it around.”  
“Whiny today, huh?”  
“Not now, Lastimosa…”  
                She huffed, and put the sample in her pocket.  
                A shadowy figure of a man with a dog walked towards them from the distance, traveling towards them along the road.  The dog started barking, and the man looked up, highlighted by Danse’s red tactical light.  With one look at EV, he yelled and ran back towards the city.  
“Seems stupid to be out here by yourself.”  Liera watched him flee.  
“It is.” Danse shook his head, “An unwise choice.  The Commonwealth is dangerous for civilians.”  
                Liera frowned, “I don’t know where I’d be if I hadn’t met you and your team.”  
“Making my job harder, if we survived.  And with EV around, we would’ve tracked you down eventually.”  
“Heh, I guess so.”  
                Liera paused to look at the silhouette of the _Prydwen_ hovering over the Commonwealth.  The size upon the ship was lost upon her, never being this far away from it before.  
_“It’s hard to believe we were passing through here just a few days ago...”_  
“Looks like you’ve got one hell of a ship up there.” Johnny squinted passed the fog, holding the railing to the bridge, “Can see that thing from all over the Commonwealth, can’t you?”  
“Is it nice onboard?” Susan asked.  
                The group looked at her, shocked by her sudden will to speak.  
“Yeah, it’s really nice.”  Liera lit her face up with her blue visor, “The Brotherhood took me in after I was alone.  If you sign up one day, you might be able to see it for yourself.”  
“Hey, I appreciate the help, but don’t go trying to drag my sister into whatever you guys got going on.  I’ve heard the stories.”  Johnny, who’d been nice and calm for the most part, now held a bite to his words.  
“Shouldn’t trust word of mouth.” Liera snickered, “Rumors can be misleading.”  
“That war machine behind us looks pretty real to me.”  
“Didn’t you hear Rhys back at the school?  EV is the only reason we came to save you. She’s not only built for war.  She’s built to _help_ the people of the Front-…The Commonwealth.”  
                Johnny looked at the ground, and then up to her, “I shouldn’t believe everything I hear on the news.  You’re right.  I’m sorry.”  
                Liera gave him a nod and continued ahead.  
“Get that stupid smile off your face.”  She mumbled as she passed Danse.  
                He suppressed a laugh, “You can’t see my face.”  
“I don’t need to.  I know it’s there.”

 

…

 

                Liera rolled her wrist computer, checking the time.  
_“06:08…”  
_                 The sky burned as the sun rose, flushing the city in shades of orange, pink, and red.  The monument they previously saw from the bridge was within walking distance, and her feet cried in joy.  
“Home away from home.” Johnny took a breath of fresh air, “The only place in the Commonwealth us traders can mingle together.”  
“Are you going to continue in your line of work?” Liera asked.  
“Hell, who knows.  Takes a certain kind of person to brave the Commonwealth trade routes.  Don’t know if Susie and I are cut out for it anymore.”  
                Susan wiped her nose, “Where else would we go?”  
“We can stay on the Hill.  Might set up a permanent shop in the Hub.”  
                Danse snickered, “I would advise that course of action.”  
“Wait, is Bunker Hill a _Minuteman_ settlement?” Liera asked nervously.  
“Nah.  Technically everything is owned by all the caravan companies that pass by.  We pool the money together and split it up.”  Johnny explained, “Don’t know what started first, the Bunker Hill settlement or the caravans, but they’re practically one and the same nowadays.”  
“How many caravans come through here?” Haylen continued the line of questioning.  
“All of ‘em.  Bunker Hill is one big _‘money makes the world go ‘round,’_ kind of place.  Raider problem?  Pay ‘em off.  Supply problem?  Buy more, charge more.”  
                Rhys scoffed, “So Bunker Hill just buys its way out of problems?”  
“It’s all they know.  Caravan folk are money folk.  And all the people who settled here retired from the caravans.  Now, that doesn’t mean a Bunker Hill Boy doesn’t know how to sling a gun, but why waste bullets if you can buy your way out of trouble for less?”  
“Because it’s enabling the Raiders.” Liera tried to stay quiet, but couldn’t, “Appeasement is a short-term solution when dealing with people like that.”  
“It’s been workin’ for the Hill for a very _long_ time, miss.”  He stretched his back, “Honestly?  Kind of amazed we’ve lasted this long.  We’re always one broken deal away from complete disaster.  But _something_ keeps this place in one peace.”  
                They proceeded under a decorative iron archway.  On the other side, powered light bulbs were strung from wires, draped over the entrance of the camp.  A wall lined the perimeter, and old lamp posts burned on each corner.  
“EV, stay put.  Don’t need you getting too close, they might think we’re here for trouble.” Liera ordered.  
“Will do, Pilot.”  
                She froze, and her shoulders tensed.  
“Why’d the robot call you Pilot?” Johnny asked.  
“It’s a nickname.”  
“Yeah.” Rhys lifted his goggles above his head to rub his eyes, “Nickname.”  
                The group rounded to the entrance of Bunker Hill, and a blonde woman with a dirty face barred their entrance.   She stood at the top of the steps while a fire burned in a mesh barrel on a platform in the middle.  She had a gun in one hand, and held another out to stop them, “Hold it right there.  Caravan or Raider?”  
“What?!” Danse shouted from the bottom of the stairs.  
“I said: ‘Caravan or Raider?’  Which _are_ you?”  She sounded irritated and rehearsed, like she’s had this conversation more than a few hundred times.  
“I _really_ don’t understand what you’re asking!”  
“Seriously?” The woman rolled her eyes, “This is Bunker Hill.  All the caravans in the Commonwealth come through here?  And every _Raider_ outfit in the area gets protection money to keep their paws off the market and our homes.  So there’s only two types of people coming through here, caravans and Raiders.  Which are you?”  
“Come on, Kessler.  You don’t recognize old Johnny and Susie Smith?” Johnny took his sister’s hand in his and pulled in front of Danse, no longer being overshadowed by his Power Armor.  
“Johnny?  Susie?  Where have you guys been? Where are the others?”  
“They didn’t make it, Kess.  I’ll catch you up once you let my Brotherhood pals onto the Hill.  They’ve helped us out a lot.  And by helping us, I mean saving our lives.”  
“Brotherhood, huh?  All right, come on in, but no gunfire.”  Kessler’s brow lifted over a smile, “Market’s open.  You can do as much trading as you like.”  
                Liera walked in first, following the Smith siblings through the gate.  
“I just wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for us.”  Johnny clasped her shoulder, “The Raiders took everything we had, but I hope getting you in here was enough.”  
“Anything to help a citizen in need.”  Danse responded, “Good luck out there.”  
“You as well, guys.  I’ll make sure everyone knows what you did.”  
                Johnny and Susan left them.  He raised a hand and was embraced by a group of people near a home in a corner of the camp.  
                The Brotherhood recon squad walked through Bunker Hill, observing the small settlement.  Houses and small, wooden huts lined the metal-sheet walls.  The base of the memorial was planted in front of a larger encampment, housing market stands and trade stalls.  To the left, a stable area was established, fully inhabited by two-headed cows.  
_“What the fuck?”  
_                 Liera scrunched her nose, looking away.  
                Danse got out of his Power Armor and took his hood off.  He ran his fingers through his hair, shaking his head as if he’d wanted to scratch an itch since they left.  
“The putrid stink of dishonesty hangs heavy in the air here...Or maybe it's just the brahmin.”  
“Brahmin?”  
“The animals over there.”  He pointed to the mutated cows, mooing and loaded with gear.  
“Don’t look them in the eye if you’ve got any sense.” Haylen smirked, “They can get nasty quick.”  
“…Right.” Liera gulped.  
“Should the need arise, this fortification would make an excellent fallback point.”  Danse studied the settlement’s walls, and the sections of tents posted up along them, “We made camps like this during basic training.  Feels like a million years ago.”  
“No kidding…” Liera agreed.  
                She removed her helmet, strapping it to her belt.  She rubbed her head, glad to be free for a bit.  
“Here…” Haylen took her cap off, and looped her goggles around her neck, “You should wear this.”  
                Liera accepted it curiously, “Why?”  
“Your…uhm…”  Haylen pointed to her head, “Implants.”  
“…Ah.”  She self-consciously covered them, “Right.”  
                She tried to not feel like she was covering a shameful, unattractive feature, but couldn’t shake it.  
                Danse smiled at her, “You can take it off if you want.  Just be prepared for questions.”  
“I’m too tired for all that…”  
                They rounded the monument, and saw a market stand bigger than the rest of them.  It was set up like a restaurant.  There was a long bar with stools set along the edge, and even had a makeshift ceiling fan.  
“Booze and grub, right here!”  A man beckoned them, wiping the countertop with a rag.  
“Ah, looks like a good place to take a break.”  Danse led the team over and took a seat, “Excuse me, citizen. Do you serve any non-alcoholic beverages?”  
                The man’s eyelids fluttered before putting his rag away, and put his hands on the counter.  
                He looked at Danse in disbelief, “Well, I’m sure I can scare up a few bottles of Nuka Cola.”  
“Aren't those notorious for being irradiated?”  
“A little, but buy the lot and I’ll throw in a dose of Rad Away as a chaser.  Deal?”  
“…Never mind.”  Danse drummed his fingers on the counter, eyeing up the menu, “We’ll have purified water and 4 iguanas on a stick if you’ve got them.”  
“50 caps, and we’ve got a deal.”  
“Haylen?” Danse turned to her.  
                She dug in her vest, and slid a pouch over.  After counting the caps twice, the barkeep nodded and smiled, “Comin’ right up.”  
                He turned his back and began sifting through a cabinet.  
“You don’t drink beer?” Liera sat next to Danse.  
“At 6 in the morning and on the job?  No.  Although, I’ll admit I haven’t had a good beer in quite a long time.”  
“But you _do_ drink, though.”  
“I might be a soldier, but that doesn't stop me from enjoying a beer now and then.”  
                Liera grinned, “Remind me to buy you one sometime.  Or two…Or three.”  
“…Thanks.  I will.”  
                The barkeep slid them cans of purified water, and they wasted no time drinking it.  
“So…Iguana on a stick?” Liera wiped her mouth, “What’s that?”  
“It’s literally an iguana on a stick.” Rhys grunted.  
“I meant the ‘iguana,’ part, smart ass.”  
“It’s a lizard.”  
“Uh…”  
                Another customer approached the counter.  He had sunglasses on, which struck her as odd, and a leather jacket.  His hair was spiked to stand tall.  From what Liera could see of his face, it was almost pristine.  Plastic, even.  
“Hey, barkeep.  I need a little something to shake the dust off me.  What do you recommend?”  
                His voice was smooth and relaxed, but had a certain air of cunning to it.  
“Top shelf item’s moonshine.  If you’re a few caps shy, we got something with a kick, all right.  But I wouldn’t recommend it.”  
                Liera huffed.  
_“A man after Barker’s own heart.”  
_                 He took a seat and reached in his pocket, sliding caps across the counter, “Moonshine. And here’s a little extra if you let me loiter a spell.  
“Much obliged.  Loiter all you like.  If you need a place to sleep it off, talk to my boy when he gets back.”  
“We’ll see where the bottle takes me.”  
                The barkeep served him and took 4 of what Liera guessed to be their meal out of a container, throwing the meat-lined skewers on a slab over a fire.  It released a salty, sugary smell that made her stomach growl.  
“Never did like brined meat.” Rhys mumbled, “Beats a crate of mutfruit every day, though.”  
“You can say that again.” Haylen rested her elbow on the counter, cupping her chin.  
                Liera sipped on her water as another man walked through the swinging gate behind the bar, putting a crate down next to the sink.  
“So Gary’s wife…Kidnapped.  That settlement Lucas Miller was talking about?  Wiped out.  I’m half-tempted to join the _Railroad_ with all this shit…”  He didn’t sound happy.  
                The barkeep snickered, “When did _you_ start to care about Synths?”  
                Liera braced for the Brotherhood team to get involved, but aside from Rhys and Danse’s angry faces, they kept their mouths shut.  
“It’s not that.  The Railroad is the only one standing up to the Institute.”  
“What?  You think that’s noble or some bullshit?  That just makes them idiots.”  
“I don’t know.  People got to do something, Dad.”  The younger man began unpacking the items from the crate.”  
                His father turned around, still cooking the food, “We got a business, Tony.  Know how lucky we are?   And you want to throw it away?”  
“I can’t sit around and do nothing anymore is all I’m sayin.”  
“You think saving a bunch of Synths is gonna stop the Institute?  What’s next, joining the ‘Deathclaw Preservation Society?’”  
“Dad-“  
“The world’s a dangerous place, it’s not your job to save it.  And dealing with the Railroad…The Institute.  Might as well put a bullet in your own damned skull before going toe-to-toe with those guys, it’ll just save you time.”  
                The barkeep plucked the skewers from the pan and put them on plates.  He slid them in front of Rhys, Haylen, Danse, and finally, Liera.  
“Hey, you, Brotherhood woman.  Talk some sense into my numskull son.  Getting involved with the Railroad is just trouble.”  
                Liera put her water down and licked her lips, “What’s the…Railroad?”  
                His brow furrowed, and he looked at Danse, “What’re you guys teachin’ your soldiers these days?”  
“I'll tell you what they are.”  Rhys leaned around Danse from the opposite end of the counter, “They're a bunch of Synth-loving maniacs.  They think they're being noble by smuggling the Synths out of the Institute, when all they're really doing is poisoning the Commonwealth.”  
“They don’t realize they could be doing more harm than good.”  Haylen added, “In no possible way can integrating Synths with humans end well for us as a species.”  
“I hope they all burn for what they're doing.” Rhys growled under his breath.  
“The Railroad are a bunch of _freedom_ fighters…”  Tony cut in, “They’re willing to risk their lives for Synths.  And that means they fight the Institute.  Only ones that do.”  
“That’s not true anymore.” Danse remained professional, though no longer holding his tongue, “The Brotherhood of Steel has positioned the _Prydwen_ over the Commonwealth in order to vanquish the Institute.”  
“Oh yeah?  And what about the Synths?” Tony rebutted, “What about them?”  
“They don’t belong here, Tony.” The barkeep interrupted, “Synthetic people made by the Institute?  Looks so human you can’t tell them from us?  They’re _monsters_.”  
“And how would you know that?”  The man who’d remained quiet spoke up.  
                He was hunched over the counter, his moonshine still at his lips, “Have you ever met one?”  
                Danse lost his professional tone, answering before the barkeep could, “Synths are _weapons_ built by the Institute.”  
“There’s no need to argue about this, guys…” Liera yawned, “I mean, if you can’t tell who’s a Synth or not, they can’t _all_ be that bad, right?”  
                She became less groggy and more alert as the entire bar silenced themselves to stare at her.  
“What did you just say?” Rhys’s voice was low and filled with hate.  
“I…uh…”  
“You know, I think I’ll take this somewhere else.” Rhys snatched his food in one hand and his water in the other, tucking his helmet under his arm.  
“Come on, Rhys.” Haylen sighed as he stood up, “Don’t-“  
“Don’t what?  I want no part of this conversation.”  
“As long as you don’t leave the perimeter, you’re free to roam.” Danse bit into his food, tearing a chunk of meat from the stick.  
                Liera gulped, “Look, Rhys. I’m sorry, I just-“  
“We’ll talk later.”  He walked away from her, heading towards the market stalls.  
                Haylen stared Liera down a long while before joining him, finishing her meal and slamming her can down before leaving.  
_“I must have messed up pretty bad to piss Haylen off.”  
_                 Liera shied away from Danse, suddenly not hungry anymore.  
“Look what you gone and done, Tony.  Stop this nonsense, we got customers.”  
“Can I talk to you in the back for a second?”  
“Ugh…”  
                Tony and his father left, leaving Danse, Liera, and the mysterious man to themselves.  
“You listen to me very closely.” Danse pointed a finger at her, “You need to take Elder Maxson’s words to heart.  The Institute and their Synths are the enemy.  All of them.  Do I make myself clear?”  
                Liera snaked her neck back, “Assuming they’re all bad just because they came out of the Institute is like assuming all humans are bad just because…I don’t know, some of them grew up in a bad area?”  
“It’s _not_ the same, Liera.  Synths are manufactured.  Whether they’re aware of their overtaking or not, they still in some way, shape, or form operate under the control of the Institute.”  The anger in his eyes made her nervous, “They’re abominations of technology.”  
“That’s all anyone says when they talk about them.  What am I supposed to do, just put a blind fold on and say okay?  I’ve never even met one of them, and from what I hear, they come across as close enough to being a _human_ as it matters.”  
“If you don’t stop spouting this blasphemy…” He bit his lip, and his gloves crinkled in his fist, “I’m gonna walk this off, and when your sense returns, you come find me, Knight.”  
                He shoved off the bar, and left his seat empty.  
                Liera looked at her can of water and frowned.  
_“I could use some moonshine right about now.”  
_                 She bit into the lizard on a stick, surprised by how good it tasted.  It seemed to be marinated, and its tenderness made it easy to chew.  
                The man next to her shifted, “Is he gonna finish that?”  
                Liera swallowed, looking at Danse’s half-eaten meal.  
“Have at it.” She slid it towards him, and continued eating.  
“Thanks.  Pass me his empty can, and I’ll share some of this.”  He shook his bottle.  
                She sighed, and did as he suggested.  He poured a shot’s worth, and she took it without a second thought, “Appreciated.”  
“Mhm.” He adjusted himself in his seat, “So…You support Synth freedom?”  
                She turned an irritated stare at him, “What?”  
“You know, the idea they shouldn’t be slaves.”  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I don’t support any type of slavery, if that’s what you’re asking.”  
“Okay, okay…” He took a sip of his drink, “Follow up.  Would you be willing to risk your life to stop the Institute and their nefarious plans?”  He paused, “I can't believe I just said that…”  
“Did you see the guys I came in with?  What do you think?”  
“The fucking holier-than-thou Brotherhood?  Yeah, I saw them.”  
“You gotta’ problem with them, mate?”  
“Elitism, Power Armor, xenophobia, and racial purging. What's _not_ to like about them?”  
                She pushed a hot breath through her nose, “You’ve got it all wrong, bud.”  
“I don’t think I do.  I met some of them in the Capital Wasteland a few years back.  That bastard Maxson really screwed them up. The Brotherhood used to be the good guys. Well, goodish…” He took a swig of moonshine, “Let's just say, not a fan.”  
“You can think all you want about them.  The Institute sounds like it’s the _real_ problem…And the Brotherhood’s in the best position to defeat them.”  
“And how many innocents will you butcher along the way?”  
                Liera scoffed, “We don’t butcher innocents in the Brotherhood.”  
“Look, it’s obvious you and that not-Brotherhood-built robot on the Hill’s doorstep aren’t from around here, so I’m gonna give you some free advice: Run.  Danse seems like a stand-up guy, sure.  But trust me, not all of the Brotherhood’s history is pretty, and there are other organizations out there that could use your help.”  
“What, you’d rather me pair up with the Minutemen?”  
                He gave her a side-grin, “They’re cool, and all.  But historically, they've been little better than policemen.  Don’t forget there’s a third player at the table, know what I’m saying?”  
                She huffed, cupping her hand around her can before drinking the last bit, “You have no idea…”  
_“The ‘third player,’ is galaxies away and unable to speak with me, at the moment.”  
_                 Liera glanced at her Militia patch on her arm, and glowered at the man as she caught him watching her.  He smirked and knocked back the last of his drink.  
                He stood, and straightened his jacket around his broad chest, “Well, sun’s coming.  Keep an eye out for the Watchers.”  
“Watchers?”  
                Liera looked at the sky, confused.  
“The Institute wasn't content with just creating Synth people. Oh no, they have Synth birds, too.  You see those little raven bastards?  They could be Watchers, reporting everything back to the mother ship… Or wherever the Institute's hiding.  So, smile for the pretty birdies and stay cool, because I’m about to give you a hug.”  
“What?”  
                He slipped a hand in the lining of his jacket, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, “They’re everywhere.  Listening, watching…”  
                The parroted words of Brandis’s ramblings triggered a spark in her belly.  
“You’re talking about the Institute…Wait, are _you_ with the Railroad?”  
                He didn’t answer.  He just slid his hand across the bar before lifting it, revealing a holotape from under his palm.  
“What’s…What’s this?”  
“A peak at the third player’s hand.  Careful who you show your cards to.”  He patted her shoulder, and left her alone at the bar.  
                She picked it up.  
                It was labeled, “THE ODYSSEY.”  
                Her eyes widened, and she jumped from her seat.  But he was gone.  Vanished.  
“EV, where did that sly fox run off to?”  
“Undetermined.  I was not aware I should track him.”  
“Gah.” She stuffed the holotape in her pocket as she left to find the others, “Damn it…”  
_“What in the actual FUCK?”_

 

…

 

                Danse wandered the market, trying to find Haylen and Rhys.  
_“She’s probably trying to calm him down somewhere.”  
_                 He kept bumping into bustling caravan workers, all walking hastily around him.  
“Watch it!” An older woman barked.  
                She wore a blue trench coat and a yellow tie around her sleeve.  
“Apologies, ma’am.”  He gulped.  
“Don’t you ‘ma’am,’ me.  What’s a bunch of Brotherhood scumbags doing in these parts, anyway?”  
                He chewed the inside of his cheek before answering, “Just passing through on our way to Sanctuary.”  
“Sanctuary?  The hell are you going up there for?”  
“That’s Brotherhood business, citizen.”  
“Well whatever ‘Brotherhood business’ you have up there, you leave Garvey and his Minutemen alone.  Them and their settlements are good for ‘Bunker Hill business,’ got it?”  
                He sighed, “Sure.”  
“Good.”  
                His shoulders fell as he exhaled.  
_“Stay calm.  Act professional.  You’re representing the Brotherhood.”  
_                 A frail woman with a head wrap barked from behind a counter, “C’mon, c’mon!  Get your guns here.  Small booms.  Big booms. I got ‘em all!”  
                She got Danse’s attention, and he watched her try to rake in customers.  
“Better buy my big guns now, because you bet your ass your enemies will!”  
                He approached the counter, and eyed her curiously, “Good morning, citizen. What do you have for sale?”  
“Got a hankering for melting face?  Crickets your girl!”  She lifted a gate, and held her hands out to a rack lined with an array of weaponry, “And there they are. Did your heart skip a beat, too?”  
                He gawked at a large weapon sitting in the middle.  
“How much for the flamethrower?”  
“Hot death flying faster than the speed of sound...Oh, my knees are getting weak just from thinking about it.”  She pulled it from the rack, and plopped it on the counter with a loud ‘clank,’ “800 caps and it’s yours.”  
“Eight-hundred…What are you trying to pull, here?”  
“Think about it this way.  A part of every big purchase goes to planting little bitty trees that I'll blow up in your honor.”  
“…I’ll pass.”  
“You leading me on? Figures.  Scavver…”  
                Danse bit his lip and turned on his heel.  
_“I’ve never hit an innocent civilian, much less a woman, but if I don’t leave this trading hub…”_

…

 

                Liera ducked into the market, looking for her comrades.  The merchants looked less than friendly, and the only one who seemed approachable was an old woman in blue leading a brahmin out of camp.  
                An elderly man in a suit stepped behind a counter, digging around the shelves underneath.  
_“He might help me.”  
_                 She jogged over, scaring him as he stood straight.  
“Ah, didn’t see you there.  Apologies.”  He fixed his tie, “Welcome, my friend.  Might I ask, do you have a Geiger counter?”  
“Uh…No, I don’t…”  
“Then today may be your lucky day. We're expecting a full shipment shortly.  Remember: What you don't know, could kill you.”  
                She did her best not to take his warning as a threat, reminding herself not everyone was out to get her. _  
_ “Say, I haven’t seen you around here.  May I ask what your name is?”  
“It’s, uhm…Liera.  Nice to meet you.”  
                He extended his hand, and she shook it nervously.  
“I’m Stockton.  You’ve heard of Old Man Stockton, yes?”  
“I’m afraid not.”  
“I run three caravans that travel throughout the Commonwealth.  You ever buy anything from Goodneighbor or Diamond City? Odds are, it's been delivered by my men.”  
                Liera shied away, “I’ll, uh…keep that in mind.  Question, if you have the time…”  
“But of course, Ms. Liera.”  
“Have you seen a group of Brotherhood soldiers passing by?”  
“Last I saw of them, they were heading out.  The tall one left not a long while ago.”  
“Heading out…?” She leaned backwards, trying to see them from the market entrance, “Thank you.”  
                She waved him off, and refrained from sprinting.  
“Good luck!” He called.  
                She shook her head as she left the hub, seeing Rhys, Haylen, and Danse waiting for her by the stairs.  
_“Phew.”_

 

…

 

 

                Rhys fumbled with his chinstrap, his fingers angrily jabbing the leather strip at the buckle.  
“Here, let me…” Haylen took it from him, and his hands dangled in defeat.  
“Thanks.”  
                Danse climbed in his Power Armor, feeling more secure the minute the metal plates snapped against his limbs.  
“I don’t know why it pissed me off so much.” Rhys put his hands on his hips, “It’s not like she knows any better.”  
“It got to me too, Rhys.” Haylen admitted, “She just needs more time for things to sink in, I think.”  
                Danse remained quiet, still reeling from the comment.  
_“’_ _If you can’t tell who’s a Synth or not, they can’t all be that bad, right?”_ _  
_                 The longer he had to settle down, the more he started to figure out why Liera’s words struck discord within the recon squad.  
_“It’s a valid question…”  
_                 Liera came trotting out of the Hub, apparently as eager to leave as they were. _  
_                 Kessler approached the team before they ran away, “You folks on your way out, then?”  
“Shortly.”  Danse answered.  
“Listen, I don’t know why a bunch of Brotherhood soldiers chose to save Johnny and Susie, but it meant a lot to the people that live here.  Just pass this along to your boss: Bunker Hill doesn’t want any trouble…”  She sighed, “You have some seriously powerful friends.  If it’ll keep us on your good side, consider us business partners.”  
                Danse looked down at her, “Will you send caravans to the Boston Airport?”  
“Is that what you need?”  
“Desperately.”  
                She deliberated before answering, “Consider it done.”  
“Thank you, citizen.  I’ll let Elder Maxson know as soon as I can.”  
“Anything for our new partners in crime.  Stop by here any time.”  
                Kessler left them, and Liera stayed quiet, keeping to herself.  
“Ready to continue our mission, soldier?” He asked.  
                She gave him a quiet nod, giving Haylen’s cap back to her.  
“Let’s move out.”  
                The stairs leading out of Bunker Hill led to a narrow alley, just big enough for EV to squeeze by. Another pocket of fog was stuck between the buildings, reminding them what they were walking into.  It was daunting, threatening to reveal danger at a second’s notice.  
_“Guess I’ll go first.”_

 

…

 

                The sun’s rays splintered on a tower from across the water, the _Prydwen_ still resting above Boston’s skyline.  Liera and the rest of the team walked along the riverside’s cracked road.  
“Hope this pavement holds.  You’ve never been one for swimming.” Liera watched the waves glisten between clouds of passing mist.  
“That is because I can’t swim, Pilot.  Being submersed would surely cause full system failure.”  
“And then I’d have to figure out how to drag your chassis out and fix you.”  
“You’ve always been one for challenges.”  
“Couldn’t ever say no to one.”  
                A crackle of thunder had Liera aiming EV’s railgun, frightened by the noise.  
“Radiation levels…^ 6.48%.”  EV announced.  
                The wind picked up, sending dust and debris tumbling across the road.  
**“We need to find shelter.  There’s a rad storm on approach.”** Danse warned, **“The Cambridge Police Station is close by.  If we move quickly, we should be able to make it before the Ghouls show up.”  
** “…Ghouls?” Liera gulped.  
**“They travel in packs, and often follow rad storms into the Commonwealth from the Glowing Sea.  That’s how we were ambushed by them during our first encounter.”**  
                A yellow flash stretched across the sky, releasing an angry howl to the lands below.  Liera jumped in surprise.  
_“Tight corners.  No cover.  Shit visibility…and the possibility of Ghouls.  Cambridge can’t come fast enough.”_  
                Something moved out ahead of them, and she squinted to get a better picture.  She leaned forward in her seat, “What’s that?”  
                It was black and twisting, coning towards the ground.  
“It appears to be smoke coming from a downed aircraft.” EV noted, “Probable cause: Fire.”  
“Hey,” Liera spoke through the comms, “We’ve got some kind of wreckage up ahead.”  
                Danse’s head turned slightly, **“And?”  
** “If it’s still on fire, it means it was shot down recently.  Keep your eyes peeled.”  
**“Isn’t that your job?”** Rhys snickered.  
“Okay, or don’t.  Won’t be my fault if you get all cut up again.”  
                Liera’s back collided with her seat’s cushion, “I make one open-minded statement they don’t like and they act like a bunch of babies.”  
“Their reaction towards the statement in question was immature, at best.  They are naïve to expect a Combat Intel Specialist to simply form an opinion based on a superior’s word.”  
“Seriously.  I mean, have they met me?”  
“Yes.”  
“That was rhetorical, EV.”  
“Oh.”  
                Liera grinned, "It's okay, girl.  You're getting better at this."

 

…

 

                Danse spearheaded the team’s path through the now-green-tinged fog.The innocence of Liera’s question wasn’t lost on him, but the idea twisted his stomach in knots.  
_“Even if some Synths are unknowingly operating outside of the Institute, they’re hidden among humans as a means for them to manipulate us as a species.  They’re all bad.  Right?”  
_                 He wasn’t sure why he was lingering on the matter.  Rhys and Haylen had finally stopped talking about it, ending in Rhys yelling and Haylen getting quiet.  
                The usual.  
“Hold on…” Rhys spoke from behind his newly equipped face mask, “That’s a Vertibird.”  
                Danse focused his attention to the smoking heap of metal to their left, laying on a circular peninsula jutting from the riverside strip.  
“Sure is.” Haylen whispered, “We should check for survivors.”  
                Rhys cocked his gun, “Whoever shot it down may still be around.  I’ll stay on lookout.”  
                Danse approached the crash site, placing his laser rifle in the holster on his leg.  He pushed the sliding door open, shielding his eyes from the flames that warmed his suit. **  
** “Maybe they survived,” Danse lifted a sheet of metal, tossing it to the side, “I don’t see any bodies.  
**“Uh, guys…”** Liera sounded more frazzled than normal, **“I…I think I found them.”  
**                 She and EV were further up the road, barely more than a blur of a giant with lights poking through the fog.  
_“Sounds like that’s definitely bad…”_

 

…

 

                Liera disembarked from EV, closing her visor to seal off the wafting scent of death that encased the area.  
                There were bodies everywhere.  They were splattered and stuck to the walls, or used to decorate the abandoned camp.  A soldier’s corpse bent backwards, impaled in the chest and high above a makeshift barricade.  A ramp to the right had a railing with two poles at the end, both capped with bloodied heads.  Their headless corpses dangled from a small bridge that closed the gap between the roofs of nearby buildings.  
                The still-warm Raider bodies on the ground were burnt, with holes dotting their limbs.  The crisp lining of each wound left black flakes on Liera’s glove as she studied them, giving her chilling reminders of Colony G21’s invasion.  
_“Plasma damage.”  
_                 She stood, looking to the rest of the team behind her.  
_“Different from theirs.  Hotter.”  
_                 Liera continued to survey the area, and came across an unusual corpse amidst the slaughter.  It looked like one of the crash dummies the Militia used to test new cockpit calibrations.  Each part of its face was a different plate of metal, but the eyes looked extraordinarily human.  Limbs were broken off, leaving a wire-filled mess sprawled around it.  The hand that rested a few feet away still clutched a large pistol, similar to Haylen’s.  
“It appears you have discovered a different type of laser pistol.” EV studied the weapon through Liera’s visor.  
“Yeah…”  There was a symbol on it, of a man standing in a “Y” shape in front of another body in an “X” position, all surrounded by a circle.  
                She looked up to the spiked heads, and felt her stomach churn.  
                The war with the IMC exposed her to a lot of senseless killing, but this…  
“This was done for sport.” She whispered as Danse caught up with her, “If these Raiders weren’t already dead…” She bit her lip, and squeezed her Hemlok.  
“Oh, my…” Haylen covered her mouth, and put her hand on Rhys’s shoulder.  
                He grimaced and looked away, swallowing deeply.  
“It looks like the Raiders did this to our soldiers,” Liera shook her head, “And this robot thing did this to the Raiders.”  
“That’s not a ‘robot thing.’” Rhys snarled, “It’s a _Synth._ An Institute Synth, according to the symbol on its badge.”  
“This is a Synth?” Liera nudged the corpse with her foot, “And you guys can’t tell the difference between one of these and a human?”  
“This is one of the earlier generations, from my understanding.” Danse explained, “I meant it when I said the newest product line from the Institute was indistinguishable from humans.”  
                Liera wet her lips, “I’m sorry, about this.  And about earlier.”  
“Me too.” Rhys’s shoulders tensed, “And just so you know, if the Raiders hadn’t found our men first…The Synth would have attacked them just the same.”  
“I…believe you.”  
“I’ll mark the area for body retrieval.” Danse’s comment was hardly over a whisper, “We have to keep moving.”  
                He walked alone, and Rhys nudged Haylen along.  Liera twitched as another metallic boom of thunder echoed across the sky, and ran to catch up with the others.  
                She jogged up to Danse, “You okay?”  
                He didn’t answer. He just kept marching, like nothing had happened.  
“Paladin Danse?”  
“I’m fine.  You take point.”  
                Liera pursed her lips behind her visor, and touched the holotape in her pocket.  
_“This can wait.”_

 

…

 

                Danse was unfocused.  He couldn’t oversee leading the team through the strengthening radiation storm without distraction.  
_“All this killing and destruction…Such a senseless waste.”  
_                 He thought back to the school, and the tales of torture Johnny and Susan told them.  How’d they never be the same after witnessing something like that.  The images of hanging bodies and heads on poles filled him with a sense of shock and mental disarray.  
_“Raiders.  The same group responsible for killing Knight Worwick.  And those soldiers…Shot down, dismembered and placed on display like goddamn trophies.”  
_                 He shuddered, trying to pull himself together.  
_“Raiders care only for themselves. There's no honor among them.  They’re not like us.  And those people at Bunker Hill practically fund them…”  
                _ He scolded himself for the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. _  
“Worwick should still be here.  Those Brotherhood soldiers should still be here.”  
_                 Liera coughed and hacked, shaking her head and clearing her throat.  She looked over her shoulder, “You got any of that rad-stuff on you?”  
                Danse sighed at his negligence.  
_“She’s not as resilient to radiation as the rest of us…”  
_                 He nodded behind him, “Scribe Haylen has some.  You should get back in the cockpit.”  
“I’ll be alright.  Just need a pick me up, is all.”

 

…

 

The wheezing in her lungs became violent, and her vitals were displayed on her wrist computer.  
_“My bloods gonna boil at this rate.”  
_                 Haylen had her pack balanced on a stone fence that came up to her knees.  Liera closed the cover to her computer and pulled her jumpsuit’s sleeve out of her glove.  
                A bird cooed overhead, and flew away from a tree.  Liera watched it fly suspiciously, having a newfound distrust for the feathered creatures.  
_“Ruined my favorite animal.  Thanks, Institute.”  
_                 She looked back to EV, remembering “Nose Art Day,” fondly.  She’d picked the feathered paint job that graced her cockpit’s cover, a light-blue wing design that contrasted against her chrome plating.  
_“Ryan helped me pick it out...”  
_                 A grip on her arm snapped her back to reality.  
“Hold still.” Haylen wiped the crook of Liera’s forearm with an alcohol-doused cotton swap.  The Rad Away needle pressed against her skin.  
                Liera refocused on the grand structure on the other side of the courtyard.  It was huge, with two wings attached to a central building.  The entrance was lined with marble columns, and a dome towered overhead.  Aged scaffolding held the left wing’s tower in place, remnants of a restoration project that began before the bombs dropped.  
“What is this place?”  
“This is…Or _was_ , the Commonwealth Institute of Technology.”  Haylen answered.  
                Danse’s light bobbed up, “It is?”  
                 It caught Liera off guard, too.  
_“This is where Brandis found the original holotape?!”  
_                 Her neck snapped to the entrance, “EV, tell me what’s in there.”  
“The abnormal nature of the radiation storm is inhibiting my sonar capabilities.  Sonar pulse unsuccessful.”  
“Of course…” She pulled her sleeve down after Haylen was finished administering the Rad Away, “Just means we have to go inside.”  
“We don’t have time…” Danse sounded notably upset, “We don’t know what kind of threats might be lurking around.”  
“But the Institute might be-”  
“It’s no use, Lastimosa.” Rhys walked passed her, “Our patrols searched this place top to bottom looking for them.  There wasn’t anything except old documents and banged up furniture.”  
                She turned to follow him, “Old documents?”  
“Proctor Quinlan has them.  He might let you review some, though, not sure why you’d want to.”  
“Ugh…If EV and I could just investigate…”  Liera looked at the ruins over her shoulder, “There’s gotta be _something.._.”  
“What’s your fascination with the ruins?”  
                They beckoned to her, a collection of structures that once housed Garrison Black, and now, perhaps the Institute itself.  They called her to seek the answers to the questions she had.  
“Nothing…We need to find the Institute, right?”  
“You didn’t seem too concerned about the Institute before, either.”  
“I didn’t know a lot _before_ , Rhys…”  
                Her knowledge of the Watchers stuck with her, and so did the agent who brought them to light.  
_“’They’re everywhere.  Listening, watching…’”  
                _ There was a lot of insight in such a small message, repeating the same words Brandis had.  
“…But the more I learn the more I realize that the Brotherhood, Railroad, and Minutemen are just players in the Institute’s larger game…And the rules?”  
                Everything was too coincidental.  Too perfectly aligned.  
“Dealer’s choice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Behind the Scenes:**  
>  *Check out [Chapter 42](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10296845/chapters/28916601) of _"The Archive,"_ for more screenshots and commentary!
> 
> *Dealer's Choice Definition: A card game in which the dealer decides what particular game is to be played, (often depending on the number of players,) and designates any special variations or unusual rules, including setting the stakes.


	25. High Noon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"When pack meets with pack in the jungle,_  
>  _And neither will go from the trail,_  
>  _Lie down till the leaders have spoken;_  
>  _It may be fair words shall prevail."_  
>  -The Law of the Jungle, st. VI

* * *

* * *

                ellow lines broke the sky into parts, sending claps of thunder from their designated sectors.  A squall sent the river spraying up the bank, it’s waves crashing on the stone barrier along the road.  
                The radiation storm had evolved, trapping dust in its tempest winds. The Commonwealth was seeking vengeance on its inhabitants that rendered it a wasteland, trying to sweep away its sins by snuffing them out.  
                A lethal, green shroud slithered away from Liera’s boots, leaving ghosted footprints in her wake.   Her mouth was gritty with a staleness on her tongue. The cool push of her helmets defoggers sucked the moisture from her eyes, and being unable to rub them was a cruel joke told by the storm.  She wanted so desperately to blink, but the thought of being blind, even if for only a moment, gave her chills.  
                Her mind ran from a stalking feeling; the tension in her back coiling like someone was chasing her.  She wrangled the urge to turn around, shout into the void, and challenge them to show themselves. **  
** Her HUD blurred into a cluster of pixelated data, spazzing to the right.  It faded back in, slow and croaking like the terminal at the satellite array.  
“EV, what’s our status?”  
“The energetic protons carried within the dust storm have compromised my diagnostic capabilities.”  
                The howling winds quickened, and she shielded herself from a plume of dirt shoveled on her chassis.  A metal sign rattled violently, sputtering on its post before breaking off and getting eaten by the pockets of debris that blew over the Commonwealth.  
“Holy sh-“  
                Liera tripped on a crack in the road, regaining her balance before getting a hold on her Hemlok.  
**“I don’t know how much longer we can stay in this!”** Rhys shouted.  
**“We’re close to the police station!”** Danse called, **“We need to get to shelter!”**  
“Can’t we just hunker down in one of these buildings?!”  Liera choked.  
                The crook of her elbow lifted to her visor, habitually covering a series of hacks as if it would stop the outside from slipping through.  But the particles coated her throat, tightening the passage to her lungs like a valve.  
**“Not without running the risk of being ambushed!”**  
                Liera’s shemagh twirled, the fabric of its worn hems whipping wildly around her neck.  She licked her lips, grimacing at the sour taste of irradiated dust.  She tapped on her wrist computer, begging the fragmented words to spell anything but, “RECONNECTING.”  
_“Can’t see more than 2 meters ahead-“_  
                Her helmet went dark.  Her air filters and defoggers were offline.  She frosted the inside of her visor with each sharp, painful breath.  
_“Shit…”  
_                 She banged on the side of her helmet, gritting her teeth as it slammed against her head.  
_“Come on, stupid-”_  
                A whisper of a growl sent her heart in a stampede, the hooves of her pulse beating in her chest.  
“Huh-“ Liera pointed her gun at the source, but couldn’t see a thing.  
                 A wet, raspy moan came from her right.  
“Wha-“ Her rifle’s sights came up empty handed.   
                A collection of padded steps rode the storm, whisked away by a passing surge. _  
_                 Her flashlight was lost in the chaos, distorted into a ray of misleading hope.   
“Guys…?” She whimpered.  
                Lightning flashed, and a shadowy blur twisted in the mess.  It’s damnable, diseased eyes targeted her.  It slurped before releasing a deafening screech, answered by dozens more.  
“GUYS!”

 

…

 

                Danse couldn’t see much past his own feet, but it wasn’t a problem for him.  He’d grown up in this environment; had seen plenty of weather like this in the Capital.  He was protected with armor so thick it could withstand rockets.  His helmet was outfitted for this kind of thing.  
                It was the others he worried about.  
                Rhys pulled Haylen along, tucking her underneath his arm.  
_“Almost there…”_  
                Just a little longer, and they’d be able to hunker down and ride out the rest.  
                The rad scrubbers in his Power Armor kicked on, and the light above his head flickered.  
**“GUYS!”**  
                A single crack broke through the gale, out of rhythm with the thunder.  And then another.  
                The shots of Liera’s Hemlok were signature, heavy and rapid in their delivery.  
**“Paladin Danse, escort the others to safety.”** EV’s railgun exploded above them, sending a shell into the storm, **“Pilot, engaging hostiles.”**  
                A Ghoul leaped from the dust, colliding with Danse’s arm with hungry teeth.  He pulled it off, slamming it to the ground by its throat.  
“We’ll cut through the alley and loop back around to the station!” He yelled, his voice cracking under strain, “Let’s move!”  
                A second Ghoul charged him, blood dripping from its clothes.  Haylen fired a shot to its chest, leaving a plasma-guided hole.  
“Stay behind me!”  
                Danse repositioned himself, stepping backwards while providing fire support.  He didn’t see Liera, only the tracer lights from her gun.  
_“How did she fall so far behind?!”_

 

…

 

  
                Liera slipped her finger on the trigger, the stock on her shoulder.  
                She exhaled.  Pulled.  Hit.  
                But they kept coming.  
                Trying to fix her helmet was just enough time to get separated from the others, and picked off by Ghouls.  Each figure was a blur vaulting out of the crushing walls of dust, focusing just before impact.  
                Her breathing was uneven and harsh, and her lungs never felt quite full.  
“Pilot, the winds are facing the cockpit doors.  To avoid damage to internal equipment, please use the manual hatch to embark.”  EV fired, doing her best to hold the line.  
                Liera’s exhaustion intensified merely from the thought of climbing, but she didn’t argue.  She shot her grapple at EV without aiming, praying it attached to some part of her that was high enough to pull her out of the ambush.  
                The tether retracted, and she collided with EV’s shoulder.  
                Somewhere in the wave of clicks and cackles that ripped through the Ghoul horde laid her abandoned courage, lost to a demonic chorus that had her spellbound by fear. Their voices were cursed; raving, hungering, wanting to devour _anything_.  
_“Can’t stop moving…“_  
                Her face went numb.  Her fingers were icy cold.  She saw her eyes’ reflection in her dead visor.  The panic that had them shaking.  The sweat dropping from her eyelashes.  
                Her hands forced their way to the edge of EV’s head, and she hoisted herself up.  Her chest collided with the cockpit’s lever.  Her knees buckled as she lifted the hatch.  She fell in her chair, dizzy and shaken.  She coughed so hard, her arms encased her stomach.  
                She was safe.  It was quiet.  She could rest…  
                She could sleep.

…

 

                The barricades around the Cambridge Police Station were high above the ground, confirming their refuge.  Danse ushered Rhys and Haylen into the perimeter.  
“These two need immediate medical attention!”  
                Two Power Armor-wearing soldiers escorted them inside, “Yes, Paladin!”  
                Three Ghouls charged at the gates, and Danse turned to assist in disposing them.  
_“What is it with this place and Ghoul attacks?!”  
_                 The cluster of buildings they’d left behind succumbed to a red glow.  Conflict boomed over the skyline, and a pillar of smoke rose between the crimson flashes.  
“What _was_ that?”  A soldier asked through his Armor.  
                Danse bit his lip, watching hopefully for a sign of EV and Liera’s survival.  
                Crunching footsteps came from the alley and EV’s light broke through, her fingers curling around the corner of an abandoned office.  She sprinted down the road, sliding to a stop and planting her fist in the cement.  
“Paladin Danse,” There was an urgency to her voice, “Pilot Lastimosa needs-“  
                He couldn’t hear her over the screeching alarms coming from the cockpit.  The sound was like someone sharpening a knife over an electric current.  
                He scooped Liera up, her helmet falling in the crook of his arm’s plates.  
                He turned, dashing towards the police station’s doors, “Step aside!”

 

…

 

                _Liera fought with her seatbelt, wiggling in her seat.  
“That some kinda new dance you got goin’ on there?” Ryan chuckled.  
“Fucking strap’s digging in my chest.  Shut up.”  
“Yeah, yeah…” Ryan huffed, “I liked my idea better.”  
“Of course _ you _would…”  
                Liam opened his visor and hacked, spitting in the corner.  Rex cocked his head, looking at him funny.  
“Are you alright, Miller?” Sage asked, leaning forward.  
                He rubbed his throat, “Don’t know if it’s the smoke or the crappy air on this Planet, but it’s makin’ it damn near impossible to breathe.  I’m fixin’ it’ll be awhile ‘till I get this mess out’ my lungs.”  
  
**“Listen up crew, we don’t have much time.”** Bish cut the chatter over the dropship’s public-address system, **“The surviving colonists have fallen back to the cliffs overlooking the colony. They're hiding in some hills around a large shipwreck. Sarah's gonna fill you in on the details.”  
**  
**“Our dropships are standing by to rescue the surviving colonists.”** Sarah addressed the team, **“Alpha Company, your objective is to hold off the IMC at the shipwreck until we've recovered the colonists and their leader; James MacAllan. His last detail was First Mate of the**_ **IMS Odyssey _, so that's where we're headed.”  
_**_  
**“MacAllan’s an ex-IMC officer, used to be one of their best Pilots and tacticians.”** Bish continued, **“He's agreed to help us fight the IMC if we get his people out safely - so let's get it done, people. Lock and load!”  
  
**                 Ryan crossed his arms, leaning back in his seat, “Can’t believe MacAllan just _left _the war…”  
“Sometimes people get sick of killing.” Chris defended him, “Get sick of dodging death.”  
“The moment you turn your back, you can’t dodge _ anything _.  And I’d_ never _turn my back on what we’re fighting for…” **  
** “Says the ex-IMC officer about the ex-IMC officer.” Akane checked her pistol, flicking the safety off, “Seems a little hypocritical to me.”  
“I was a Corporal when I defected.  I didn’t blindfold myself long enough to make First Mate, and sure as Hell didn’t go hide on some off-the-grid-planet like this asshole.”  
                The door to the cabin opened, and Tai walked down the aisle.  
“Deployment in 3.  You guys ready?”  
“Yeah, I’m ready.” Liera nodded at him, “Ready to stop hearing everyone whine and get this over with…”  
“Hah! You’re my daughter, that’s for certain.” He flipped his helmet over his head, and put his hand on the hatch’s handle, “Alright, Marauders.  Let’s go save some colonists.”  
“Aye-aye, Captain!” Chris beat his fist on his chest, “OORAH!”_

 

…

 

                Liera squirmed in Danse’s arms, mouthing words in her sleep.  He pumped the Rad-X bag in his hand, sending the liquid through the tube attached to the crook of her elbow.  They sat on a bed pushed into the corner of the room he once claimed as his own, not having been there since the night they met.  
                The desk had been left alone, but the broken terminal was replaced with a new one that hummed idly.  He thought back to the picture he found, and wondered if he still had it or if he’d accidentally lost it. _  
_                 Not too long ago he’d been pinned down with the remaining soldiers of his squad, firing hopelessly at a pack of feral Ghouls.  It would’ve been their final resting place had a visitor from outer space not shown up.  
                The cut on her lip was mangled.  A spot on her neck was red and splotchy; a violent mark on her bronze skin.  Her breathing was weak and ragged, held by a tightness that croaked from her chest.  
                The Commonwealth had not taken a liking to its foreign guest.  
“Get down…”  She tossed, and he flexed his arm to adjust to her new position.   
“Liera,” He gave her a gentle shake, “You’re dreaming.”  
                Danse propped her up with his knee, and pressed his back against the wall.  He smiled at how her cheek pressed against him, warm and comforting.  
                The door creaked open, and Haylen pushed her face in.  His peaceful state was disrupted, and he felt like he was caught doing something wrong.  
“Is she still asleep?” She whispered.  
                Danse shook his head, nodding down to her.  
“There’s a drop-off soon.  Want to wake her up or should I come back when it’s here?”  
“Ryan-“ Liera mumbled, her face creasing as if she was in pain.  
                Haylen raised her brows, covering her mouth to hide a giggle.  
“Let me know when it gets here…”  He swallowed, his heart going cold.  
“Okay…” She pulled the door closed, the lock barely making a noise.  
                To anyone who wasn’t familiar with Liera’s history, her outburst might have been funny.  
                He wanted to not be jealous of the memory of a dead man…  
                But hearing her call out her deceased lover’s name with such desperation in her voice hit a nerve.  He started to wonder what kind of man Ryan must have been to win the heart of a woman like her.  Wondered what made her take a risk with _him_ , and no one else…  
“The colonists!”  Liera shot upright.  
                Her forehead collided with his cheek, and he winced at a dull “thump,” on his jaw.  
“Ow-“ She gripped her head instinctively, “Shit…”  
                He rubbed his face, “Afternoon.”  
                She whipped around, startled by his voice.  There was confusion in her demeanor, and she started tearing at the needle in her arm, “What are you-What’s-“  
“Rad-X.  Stronger than Rad Away.” He shifted under her, sliding her on the mattress, “You passed out after EV dropped you off a few hours ago.  Got pretty sick, too.”  
                He held her shoulders, and she frantically scanned the room as if not sure of its existence.  
“And Rhys?  Haylen?”  
“They made it.”  
                There was a spark in her posture, and she patted her chest.  She relaxed once she tapped on something in her pocket, and her gaze returned to him, “That storm strengthened out of nowhere.  I didn’t think…”  
“It’s the worst radiation storm I’ve ever seen.  I should’ve kept a tighter formation.  Shouldn’t have assumed EV had you covered.”  
“This isn’t your fault.” She coughed, “That shit was crazy…”  
                She shivered, and her eyelids shut tight.  
“You’re safe now.” Danse rubbed her back, “Try not to think about it.”  
                She rolled her neck, smiling at him between pants, “Should’a seen me when I first landed.  That rad storm didn’t quite knock me like this one, though.”  
“I’m surprised the Militia didn’t send their lone agent better prepared, considering.”  
“They tried...But this atmosphere is worse than any Titan core exposure or space travel radiation…”  
                Her belly gurgled, and she paced her breathing.  She rubbed her stomach, “Are we still going to Sanctuary?”  
“We’re going to intercept a Vertibird to fly us the rest of the way.”  Danse shrugged, “You’re not the only one who got a nasty dose of radiation poisoning.”  
“Are you…”  
“Not me.  The rest of the team.  Although, they didn’t throw up as much as you did.”  
                He tried not to laugh at the horrified expression that stretched across her face.  
“Uh…You saw me…?”  
“Saw you.  Cleaned it off the floor.  Off _me_.”  
“Oh, god…” She covered her face, “I threw up _on_ you?”  
“ _Projectile_.  Never thought someone so small could make that much of a mess.”  
“Everyone’s small when you’re 6’5 and build like a tank.” She growled.  
                He raised a brow, “Is that what you think of me?”  
“Danse,” She put a hand in his face, and playfully pushed him away, “Stop talking.”  
                He cupped his hand around her wrist, and moved it aside, “Is it?”  
“Danse.” Her other arm came around, and he caught that one, too.  
“You know I could get out of this fairly easy, right?” _  
_                 He gave her a cocky grin, “Whatever you say.”  
                Her wrist rolled, and trapped his in her palm.  She pushed it forward, pinning it against the wall behind the bed frame.  He folded her non-enhanced arm around her back, and her chest fell into his.  
“You treat all your patients like this?”  
“No,” He chuckled, “Just you.”  
                Her eyes softened at that.  The thick layers of her armor rubbed against his jumpsuit as she took a deep breath.  
                Her jaw locked.  Her body jerked, “Danse.  Let go.”  
“Huh?”  
“It’s happening again.”  
                He pushed her up with his shoulder, grabbing the battery pack on her back and twisting her over the edge of the bed.  He slid a bucket with his foot, and she started puking in its depths.  Her fingers curled on his side, clutching the fabric of his uniform.  He reached around to the other side of her face, and swept his hand across to hold her hair back.  
“That’s it…” He said calmly, “Get it all out.”  
_“Nothing I haven’t seen before.”_

 

…

 

                Liera rested the back of her head against the wall, feeling drained and out of breath.  Danse handed her a rag.  
                She wiped her mouth, “Thanks.”  
“Sure.”  
                His gaze washed over her, sending warmth across her sore body.  It was absent of judgement or disgust, just utter acceptance and understanding.  It relaxed her, and she felt at ease.  
                Her eyelids fluttered, and her chin sank to her shoulder.  
                A knock came at the door before the handle turned, and Haylen let herself in.  
“Hey.  Vertibird is pulling in.  How do you want us to handle this?”  
“Stall it as long as possible.  I’ll be up.”  Danse jumped to his feet, and passed Haylen the Rad-X drip, “Hold this.”  
“Moving out already…?” Liera whined.  
“Yes.  Rhys has all your belongings, and EV said she’d follow on foot.” He pulled his hood over his head, “Go with Haylen to the roof, I’ll meet up with you once I get my Power Armor.”  
                Haylen helped her up without warning, and hurriedly pulled her through the doorway.  
                The police station teetered, the weight of her sickness dropping each side of her vision in seesawing tilts.  Her ears were hot.  Her feet couldn’t quite match Haylen’s rhythm, even if she did her best to course-correct.  
                Each time her legs hit the floor, they threatened to send her into another fit.  Her eyes blurred and refocused under the pounding headache.  Her body felt heavy, leaning on Haylen for support.  
“One step at a time, soldier.  That’s it…you’ve got it.”  
                Haylen held her up with one arm, and opened the door with the other. She almost dropped the Rad-X bag, but a practiced grip held it secure.  
                The afternoon’s sun temporarily blinded Liera as she was dragged on the roof of the Cambridge Police Station.  It wasn’t the same heap of hastily-thrown-together fortifications they’d left it in.  Huge barricades formed a walkway that lined the perimeter.  A barbed fence served as an entrance, reinforced by steel beams on either side.  Guards patrolled the lot in Power Armor, armed to the neck with an established rotation.  
                Rhys was waiting for them on the helipad, chatting with a few recruits that climbed out of the Vertibird.  
“Man, if this doesn’t make the deployment worth it, I don’t know what does.  And you get to run around with her?”  
“Under the supervision of Paladin Danse, yes.”  
“You’re with Recon Squad Gladius?”  
“Knight Rhys, at your service.” He pointed at the two women, “That’s Scribe Haylen and Knight Lastimosa, EV’s Pilot.”  
                Liera gave an obligatory wave, ignoring the introductions from people she couldn’t give two shits about in her present situation.  Rhys walked over, and helped relieve some weight off Haylen.  
“Hey, sorry about your shotgun.  I had to dump it in the shuffle.” He lowered her Hemlok’s sling around her shoulders, “Just be glad you’re getting this bad boy back.”  
                They guided her to the Vertibird, and Rhys climbed in.  He held his hands out, and Liera accepted them gratefully.  A sharp pain lit up her sides, and he caught her as she buckled.  
“Easy, Sister.”  
                He was oddly gentle and sweet in his tone, something she wasn’t used to, coming from him.  He lowered her onto the seat, and pressed her helmet on her head.  Her nose pinched as her collar slid over her face.  
                Rhys patted the top of her helmet, “Maxson’s got all the Vertibirds tied up with whatever he’s got going on, but there’s still some traveling between the Capital Wasteland and this checkpoint, dropping off new recruits.  These soldiers were nice enough to offer us a ride.”  
“Afternoon, Knight.  Lancer-Knight Frederick reporting.” He turned around from the cockpit’s seat, “Heard you guys took a beating.”  
                She slid over to make room for Haylen, “Been through worse.”  
“Doesn’t look like it.” Frederick’s co-pilot lifted her goggles.  
“Take me on my word, then.”  
                Liera saw EV on the other side of the police station, a black ring of soot lining her ocular hub.  She gave her a wave, and EV returned the gesture.  
“I’m glad to see you in good health, Pilot.”  She spoke through Liera’s helmet.  
“Thanks to you…How are your energy supplies?”  
“The radiation storm was helpful in charging all cores to 100%.”  EV confirmed, “I will have to recharge upon our arrival after long-distance thruster engagement, but I believe it would be in your best interest that I not lose sight of the Vertibird.”  
“Just don’t drain yourself too quickly.”  
“I won’t, Pilot.”  
                Danse joined them on the roof, his suit sparkling in the now-clear weather.  He hastily pulled himself in the idling Vertibird, and leaned between the two front seats.  
“Paladin Danse, Recon Squad Gladius.” He beat his chest, saluting the Lancers, “Ah, Lancer-Knight Frederick.  It’s been a long time. How’ve you been?”  
“Flying the not-so-friendly skies while you’re down there getting blasted by rad storms.” He smirked, “Glad to see you in one piece, Paladin.”  
“You too, Frederick.  You did an outstanding job training Lancer Rico.  He’s been crucial in assisting my team more than once.”  
“Like I told Captain Kells, he’s one of our best.”  
“Whoa, you didn’t tell me Rico was flying with _the_ Paladin Danse…” The woman’s face lit up, “Lancer-Initiate Rodgers.  It’s an honor to meet you, sir.”  
                Liera rolled her eyes at the lust in her voice.  
“Likewise.” Danse cut the conversation short, “My team and I aren’t fit for travel after being stuck in the abnormally strong storm.  We were headed to Sanctuary.”  
“Well, hop on that minigun and we’ll get going!”  
                The Initiate looked to Frederick, “Are we authorized to do that?”  
“For Danse and his team? Sure.” He pulled at a lever above, and pushed a few buttons, “Tell your team to buckle up.  It would be our pleasure to give you a lift before refueling and heading back to the Capital.”  
“Thank you, Brother.”  
                Haylen buckled a seatbelt around Liera’s waist, securing herself afterwards.  Rhys stretched on the other side of her, and put his arm along the length of the Vertibird’s bench seat.  His muscles pushed Liera’s head forward, and he flicked the back of Haylen’s head.  
“Hey!”  
                He laughed, and turned his head to watch the Vertibird lift off.  
“Your armpit smells atrocious.” Liera scooted away, stuck in the middle of them.  
“What’s that?” He pushed in closer.  
“Keep it up and I’ll throw up on you, too.”

 

…

 

                The Vertibird’s engines vibrated off metal overpasses.  The shaking of the cabin had Liera’s stomach falling in pits, trying to claw back out.  Her fingers scrunched the fabric on her leg, and she struggled to contain herself.  
“What’s wrong, Haylen?”  Rhys’s voice came over the Vertibird’s channel.  
“Elder Maxson is right to focus on the artillery aspects of war…but this, right here?  What we’re about to do?  This’ll decide if we win.”  
                The truth in her words did little to ease Liera’s anxiety.  Everything was riding on this, and yet, she knew so little about why the Brotherhood was cut off from the Minutemen in the first place.  
                She gulped, and turned her head slightly, “What happened between you guys and Garvey’s people?”  
                The sounds of flight paused the conversation.  No one seemed to want to answer.  
“It’s a long story.” Rhys mumbled.  
                Seconds turned into minutes.  She started to regret pressing the issue before Danse spoke up.  
“When we were first deployed, our initial goal was strictly to investigate the Commonwealth.  We established contact with the _Prydwen_ by utilizing USAF Satellite Station Olivia, a few miles east of Sanctuary.  When we started running low on supplies, we traveled to the nearest city we found…Concord.”  
                The resilience in his voice was lost, and it became apparent that the topic was sore on the team as a whole.  
“We were immediately assaulted by Raiders.  During the firefight, we sought shelter in the Museum of Freedom.  To our surprise; Preston, Nora, and a few other stragglers were pinned down inside.  There was an old Vertibird wreck on the roof, and Knight Keane…”  
                He cleared his throat before continuing, “He went up by himself to secure the minigun from the door.  He engaged with the Raiders on the ground, and his Power Armor was badly damaged.  He was forced to abandon it, so I took the minigun for myself to cover his retreat.  But the conflict drew the attention of a deathclaw…and…”  
“The enemy took advantage of the confusion and shot Keane.” Haylen blurted, “Nora ran out to drag him back in the building.  The deathclaw took a swipe at her, but only got her face.”  
“Because Keane pushed her out of the way.”  Rhys was solemn in his words, “…He was killed immediately.”  
“Nora told us to fall back to Sanctuary.” Haylen picked up where he left off, “I treated her wounds along the way.  Warned her it would leave a nasty scar…”  
                Liera tried not to find joy in Nora’s injuries. A nagging feeling tugged at her, though.  Nora Hammond was her aunt, and family bonds were things Tai instilled in her to cherish.  
                Her nose twitched, and she hushed the thought.  
“After we escorted the group to Sanctuary, we made contact with Elder Maxson, informed him of what happened, and told him we found a living, breathing Vault Dweller…” Danse went on, however begrudgingly, “He sent a Vertibird to take her back to the Capital Wasteland where the _Prydwen_ was docked for maintenance, and that was the last time we saw Nora until…well, you were there.”  
“Preston wanted us to stay.” Rhys growled, “He wanted us to waste our time fortifying Sanctuary into an impenetrable fortress.  He wanted to ride the Brotherhood’s back long enough to rebuild the Minutemen with nothing to offer in return.”  
“And you didn’t?” Liera asked.  
“My team and I still had a mission to uphold.”  Danse’s vigor returned to him, “We left, and he’s hated us ever since.  But now that he’s got some pull in the Commonwealth, he’s flexing it as much as he has to in order to force us out.”  
                The Vertibird’s engines rotated, and the thrusters pointed at the ground.  
“He’s quick to forget that without the Brotherhood’s help, he would have never made it to Sanctuary.” Rhys slung his weapon as the Vertibird started its descent.  
“Easy, Knight.  We’re going to handle this as diplomatically as we can.”  
“Did Preston display any kind of ‘diplomacy,’ when he ordered his settlements to let us starve?”

                Liera squirmed.  
                All she could think about was the IMC guiding the Original Colonists to the Frontier, abandoning them, and returning once they had a need they couldn’t fulfill on their own.  
“I’m warning you, Rhys.  No bloodshed.”  
“Apologies, Paladin.  I only meant that the settlers can be just as bad as Raiders if they’re pushed hard enough.  As far as I’m concerned, they’re just another blockade in our path to victory.”  
“We’re not here to ‘push’ them.” Danse clanked as he turned, “We’re here to _negotiate_.”  
                The IMC pushed the colonists, and didn’t leave any room for negotiations when they started slaughtering them.  Danse understood the difference, sure.  
                But Rhys?  
_“He’d be a high-ranking IMC official in a month…”_

 

…

 

                Liera sat on EV’s foot, leaning on the armored plate of her leg.  She coughed quietly as the Vertibird pushed dirt into small tornadoes around it, it’s hot engines distorting the space underneath them.  Rhys and Haylen were off to the side, the group of them waiting for Danse to finish speaking with the Lancers.  
                What looked to be a repurposed refueling station stood from down the hill, decorated with a red rocket statue shooting towards the sky.  Letters lined the top lit in bright red, “Red Rocket Truck Stop.”  An old advertisement on a billboard had, “Nuka-Cola, ‘Have a Nuke,’” sprawled across it in off-white letters.  
“I think this place has had enough nukes.”  Liera muttered.  
“Agreed.” EV turned her focus to the sprawling wasteland to their left.  
                The settlement that awaited them was huge.  It was the size of the airport, with homes and other structures lining the perimeter.  The bridge leading into it was broken on the right, wooden and rotted over a wide stream.  
_“It’s still pretty, for the most part.”_  
                Danse finished whatever he was talking about, and hit the side of the Vertibird with a friendly tap.  The doors slid closed, and it began its flight away. _  
_ Liera looked up, “EV, you know the drill.”  
“Standing watch.”  
                Danse regrouped with them, his laser rifle aimed at the ground.  
“Everything good?” Rhys asked.  
“Lancer-Initiate Rodgers had a few questions about the team.” Danse seemed put off, “I guess I didn’t realize how quickly word travels of our…endeavors.”  
“Heh, no kidding…”  
                Haylen gave a quiet laugh, and the rest of the team looked at her.  
“Something funny?” Rhys cocked his head.  
“I’m sure she had some questions, alright.  Questions about _you._ ” Haylen nodded her chin at Danse, “’It’s a pleasure to meet you, _sir._ ’”  
                She sprinkled her voice with a feminine tone that was overkill, even for her.  
“Ugh…” Danse shook his head, “Don’t be ridiculous.”  
“Takes a woman to pick up on that kind of stuff.  Right, Lastimosa?”  
                Liera tossed the empty Rad-X bag, pulling her sleeve down.  She clamped her gauntlet over the fabric, “Yeah.”  
                A tinge of violence tugged at her lip, and she barked the word.  It earned her a collection of confused stares.  
“Sorry.  Not feeling up for talking.” She grimaced as her stomach churned, and forced herself to her feet.  
  _“And Lancer-Initiate Rodgers better fuck off.”  
_                 There was a touch of selfishness in her need to mark her territory, knowing she couldn’t act on how she felt about her commanding officer.  
                Still, she was too sick to lecture herself.  
“Anyway…” Danse turned towards what she guessed was Sanctuary, “It’s been a long road here, soldiers. Let’s make it worth it.”

 

…

  
                Settlers worked in the surrounding fields, tending to crops that sprouted from the freshly-tilled earth.  They seemed oddly relaxed, as if they didn’t just see a Titan roll up on their settlement and a Vertibird drop a team of Brotherhood soldiers off across the way.  Danse stopped at the opposing end of the bridge, holding a fist to halt the rest of the team.  
“To arms!”  Someone shouted.  
                The fatigue that crippled Liera set a tighter grip, and she groaned as she corrected her back from a slouch.  
“Damn.”  Danse gripped the barrel of his rifle, “Remember what I said.  Do _not_ start any conflicts.”  
“Didn’t you just hear him?” Rhys growled, his finger twitching on his trigger.  
                Haylen pulled her pistol, letting it dangle at her side, “We don’t have to _start_ the conflict.  Just finish it if _they_ do.”  
“That’s the spirit.”  Rhys winked at her.  
                A watchman’s tower barred the middle of the road leading into the settlement.  A man shuffled on top, a sniper rifle in his hands.  
_“I’ve got my eye on you…”  
                _ A group of ragtag soldiers in matching clothes scurried out from behind buildings like ants from a hill.  They all had the same type of weapon; long-distance and with energy readings that made her recovering HUD blink all sorts of warnings.  They took to their knees and formed a firing squad, strategically placing themselves behind various sorts of cover.  
“So…” Liera pointed her Hemlock at the sky, leaning its sights on her shoulder, “You didn’t tell them we were coming?”  
“How was I supposed to?” Danse scowled.  
“Uh, A RADIO?”  
                A pale man in greasy overalls and thick gloves leaned on a pillar to the left of a sign with, “Sanctuary Hills,” written in faded, yellow letters.  A woman in a blue trench coat smoked a cigarette, a brahmin shuffling in the grass to the right.  
_“That’s the woman from Bunker Hill!”  
_                 Liera glared at her, but her attention was pulled to someone walking through the front lines of the small army.  
                His skin was brown with warm, red undertones.  His eyes were piercing, dark in their nature, experienced and on-guard.  The hat on his head had a long rim, the right side pinned to the top.  His coattails dangled behind worn boots that had walked hundreds of miles.  A scarf encased his neck over his collar, stuffed in a long, decorative vest underneath.  A leather strap crossed his chest with a radio attached over his heart.  
                A long, what looked to be modified weapon took both of his hands to hold.  There was a clear chamber with red, twitching electricity at the end of a laser pointing between the tip of the barrel and a beam splitter.  
                He had enough presence to quiet a room.  He had confidence in his march, his shoulders rocking side to side; his head held high.  
_“That must be him…”  
_                 Preston Garvey, General of the Minutemen.           
“The Brotherhood doesn't mess around when they decide someone's their enemy, do they?!”  He shouted.  
                His voice was strong and challenging.  He paused in front of the sign, not daring to take a step farther.  
                It was them against the Minutemen, at opposite sides of a bridge, broken and battered; but remaining.  It was reminiscent of the faction’s relationship with each other.  
                Not destroyed, not all together.  Water underneath, but a heavy rain would threaten to sweep it away.  
_“I hope you know what you’re doing, Danse…”_

 

…

 

                The inside of Danse’s Power Armor grew hot as he took the first step on the bridge.  The idea of being exposed in the open with nowhere to run gave him a new sense of caution.  He almost wished he didn’t believe in peace talks, because leveling the place would be that much easier.  
                Preston held the weight of a leader, no longer the carefree man he’d met in Concord.  He had fifteen men and women lined up behind him, their laser muskets pointed and ready to defend their livelihood from the perceived threat of Danse’s team.  
“Always were the shoot-first-ask-questions-later type, no doubt about that.”  Preston nodded to EV.  
“Take it easy, Garvey.”  Danse paused once he crossed the bridge, his team a short distance behind him, “We’re just here to talk.”  
“I guess you weren’t listening last time.  I’ve got nothing left to say to you.”  
“You said plenty when you ordered your settlements to cease all trade activity with the Brotherhood.”  
                He raised his chin defiantly, “The ends never justify the means, Paladin.  I tried to tell you before that I wasn't happy with how Maxson was handling things, and I don’t think he’s here to bring peace and freedom to the Commonwealth.”  
                Preston was there when Danse radioed the Capital.  He heard Maxson give the order to take the airport by force, for a reason he’d yet to reveal.  Preston disagreed with the idea of cleansing the Commonwealth of abominations; because in his eyes, even pre-war Ghouls deserved a place among humans.   
“Elder Maxson chooses his battles.” Danse said calmly, “He doesn’t waste them on situations that can be resolved through diplomacy.”  
“Doesn’t waste them…” Preston snickered, looking away with a cocky smirk, “You ask me, freedom’s _always_ worth fighting for.”  
“Our goals aren’t so different, General.  We just want to pursue them side-by-side.”  
“The Brotherhood didn’t want much with us when we were a couple of stragglers.” Preston’s eyes narrowed, “But now that we have something to show for ourselves, you come knocking to take it all away.  We’ve dealt with invaders like you before, and we’ll do it again if we have to.”  
“I don't know how you think the Brotherhood of Steel operates, but we’re not here to _invade,_ anything…”  
“Then there damn well better be a good reason you’ve brought that _thing_ to our doorstep.”  
                Liera shifted at his left.  
“Knight Lastimosa and her Titan’s presence are…an entirely different matter of discussion.”  
                He paused, “’Her?’”  
“Yes.  She’s a woman.”  
“No, not that.  You said her ‘Titan.’  Implying that it’s not the Brotherhood’s.”  
“It’s not.” Liera ended her silence, “ _She’s_ not the Brotherhood’s.”  
                Danse’s heart tripped over itself, shuddering at the glare Preston directed at her.  She’d been doing well, letting him speak on behalf of the Brotherhood.  However, it seemed she had something to say, and he’d have to trust her to continue.  
“…But what I can tell you in implicit detail, is that no Titan in the world can help us take down the Institute if you pit the entire Commonwealth against us.”  
                The loyalty in her words moved him.  She sounded empowered; official, like she’d taken the Brotherhood’s survival to heart.  
“The Institute?” Preston tipped his hat, “Why in the world would you want to mess around with them?”  
“Because we _care_ about what happens to the Commonwealth.” Danse answered for her, “And we want to stop the Institute from using their technological superiority as a weapon.  But if you force us out, you’ll force out the Commonwealth’s only hope of survival.”  
                A rumble of laughter erupted from the Minutemen posted before him.  
                Preston raised a fist, and they returned to silence.  
“Our hands have _bled_ building homes -  _lives_ , trying to unify the Commonwealth while the Brotherhood threatens to shake it apart.  And you think you’re our ‘only hope of survival?’”  
“I meant our alliance, General.  Neither of us, the Minutemen nor Brotherhood, can do this on our own.”  
                Preston wasn’t rattled, but deep in thought.  
“I knew this day was coming…” He growled under his breath, “But a wise man once told me, ‘When we all work together, the bad guys don't stand a chance.’”  
                He shifted his laser musket to one hand, and let it hang along the length of his body.  
“Tell you what, Paladin.  We’ll go to the Common House terrace and see if we can work something out that will benefit _both_ of us.  The rest of your team will follow Sturges to Nora’s old house. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind some of her new ‘friends’ staying there for a while.”  
“Thank you, General.”  
“Don’t thank me yet…I’ll be just as quick to send you on your way as you were to leave.”  
                Danse’s grit his teeth, and nodded at the rest of his team.  
_“Well, this has been a great start…”_

 

…

 

                Danse marched alone and unprotected, throwing himself to the mercy of the Minutemen as they left.  Preston seemed to have broken through whatever hatred had barred their reunion, but whether it hung from a thread or was solidified was up for debate.   
                The man leaning on the pillar started waving, nabbing Liera’s attention.  
“Eyy, Rhysie boy!  It’s been a long time comin’!” He grabbed Rhys’s shoulder and shook him, “Look at you, gettin’ all muscled up.”  
                He pushed him off, “You call me Rhysie boy again and I’ll shove my fist down your throat.”  
“Whelp, you’re still just a bundle of pissed off.  Haylen, sweetie, how are ya?”  
                She smiled at him, “Been good, Sturges.  I see you’ve had your hands busy.”  
“After we got some defenses set up, Preston was able to relax a little bit.  ‘Xcept he put _me_ on carpenter duty.” He nodded to Liera, “Found yourself some fancy Australian Protectron, eh?”  
“Knight Lastimosa.” Liera opened her visor and extended her hand, “I don’t know what a Protectron is, but it’s a pleasure to meet you.”  
                Her introduction was automated, void of emotion.  
_“And for the last time, I’m not ‘Australian…’ unless that’s some kind of weird adjective I don’t know about.”  
_                 He shook her hand, “Name’s Sturges, and this here is Sanctuary Hills.”  
                He had an accent almost as thick as Miller’s - sounded like a Homesteader from the Frontier.  
“Ya’ll know you’re gonna have to let me check out that mean killing machine out there, right?”  
“We’ll see, gearhead.” Haylen grinned at Liera, “He likes everything mechanical.”  
                Sturges crossed his arms, staring at EV over the water.  
_“Wait till he sees my arm.”  
_                 Liera covered her mouth as she coughed, “We’ll have to talk engineering once I’m feeling better.”  
“You into that sorta’ thing?”  
“Very much so, sir.”  
                He gave her a grin that stretched ear to ear, then turned his back to them.  
“Alrighty, then.  Preston’s got me takin’ you folks to Nora’s old place.  Gonna stash you there while the big dogs’re talkin’.”  
                Rhys hiked his brow, “I can’t believe you guys left it vacant all this time.”  
“General’s still pretty banged up about everything, but he had the decency to keep her place unoccupied.  She brought us here, after all.”  The group started walking farther into the shantytown, “Me?  I don’t like to hold grudges.  You guys are good in my book.”  
“Thanks, Sturges.” Rhys sounded like he meant it, “That’s big of you.”  
“Just don’t go tramplin’ down all my hard work…Ya hear?”  
“We won’t.  Promise.”  
                Sanctuary was even more bustling than Bunker Hill.  Shops were lined on either side of the road, winding through destroyed houses that served as bunkers of sorts.  They passed a clinic, an armory, a wooden cabin that sold general goods, and many other small stands.  
                The most prominent fixture was a huge brick building with multiple stories.  She saw Preston and Danse pause outside of it just long enough for him to get out of his Power Armor, leaving it parked outside.  
_“Should keep an eye on that, too.”_  
                They didn’t walk far until they stopped at a building with two cinder block fireplaces built outside it.  
“Well, this is our stop.  You guys need something, gimme a holler.  I’ll be right over there in my shop.”  
                He pointed to an open-faced garage that had been converted into a workstation.  
“Thank you.”  Haylen gave him a hug.  
“Anytime, sweet pea.”  He waved at them as he went about his business.  
                The house was decaying, it’s roof wilted and sagging like the remnants of a garden lining the front.  The teal, rusted tiles were pushed from their frame by vines snaking up between them.  The windows were gone, leaving gaping holes in the walls.  
                Liera paused at the end of the broken sidewalk, looking at the long-forgotten car in the driveway.  
                This was where Nora and Nathan Black lived before the bombs fell.  
                It wasn’t a building with a faded sign.  Wasn’t just a house they were passing by.  She knew it’s story, or the main characters in it, at least.  
                It was more than a house…  
                It was a _home_.  
                She followed Rhys and Haylen inside, and it seemed they were just as awestruck as she was.  
                The kitchen was divided from the living room by a counter, one that may have hosted meals and get-togethers.  The sink still had dishes in it, broken and unattended to.  The couch was red, more worn on the right side than the other.  A television sat next to a fireplace, and Liera imagined it must’ve been cozy when it was lit.  
                There was a bookshelf built into the wall.  An American flag was folded into 3 points with “Nathan Black,” engraved on a plate on the front.  A degree from the Commonwealth Institute of Technology, addressed to Nora Hammond, marked her success as a medical doctor.  Family pictures were strung on pins and wires, clearly having been recovered after the blast.  
                One was of Nora and Nathan, her in a wedding dress, him a tux.  She looked happy, and he…well, he looked content.  
                The one in the middle was of them, but with a small infant in Nora’s arms.  
_“They had the baby after all, it seems.”_  
                It was too blurry for her to get a good look at the child, but she assumed the picture would’ve been taken sometime shortly after it was born.  
                The third picture, though…that through her for a loop.  
                Two women, each with their arms around each other’s shoulders.  They were identical, except one was just a bit shorter than the other.  They seemed close, as if they were genuinely happy to be in each other’s company.  
                Liera plucked it from the clothes pin, and flipped it.  
_“Nora and Evelyn Hammond, 2070.”_  
                She gulped, and her thumb traced the shorter woman.  Her face matched the one stored in her locket.  
                Her mother.  The woman she never met; who died bringing her to life.  
                Liera wondered which of the stories she heard about her were true…and which ones she’d yet to hear.  
“Whatchya lookin’ at?” Haylen peaked over her shoulder, startling her, “Is that Nora and her sister?”  
                Liera offered the picture to her, “Looks like it.”  
“She never said much about her except that they were twins...” She looked back up at Liera, and paused.  
                Her eyes switched between her and the photograph.  
“What?”  
“Nothing, you just…You kinda look like them.”  
“Hah,” Liera barked nervously, “Right.”  
                Dodging further observation, she turned the corner to proceed down a hallway.  She passed a laundry room, the doorway half-blocked with a large, “Mr. Handy,” box.  The robot on the front looked similar to Supervisor White from Graygarden.  
_“I wonder if they’re anything like MVRNs before they’re programmed…”  
_                 There was a bathroom with nothing interesting in it, as if it’d been picked clean.  At the end of the hall, a door to a bedroom was open, while another one across the way was closed.  Never fully being able to choose the easiest route, she walked through the closed-off area first.  
                What she found twisted her stomach.  
                A crib, blue in color, sat crooked underneath a baby mobile with one, solo spaceship hanging from its center.  A dresser had wooden blocks on top, lined up to spell out, “Shaun.”  
                Nora had a son.  At least, with a name like Shaun, the baby was most likely a boy.  He was still young enough to sleep in the crib when the bombs fell.  
_“Guess Hammond got what he wanted.  A grand-spawn.  Wonder if the kid died.”  
_                 Liera closed the door, frowning at the idea.  
“Looking for something?” Rhys crossed his arms.  
                She jumped, “What? No.”  
“What are you doing, then?”  
“Poking around.”  
“You don’t ‘poke around,’ without a motive.”  
                Liera held her arms out, “C’mon, aren’t you a little curious about Maxson’s mistress?”  
                His nose crinkled, “She’s not…His…What?”  
“Kinda punches a hole in your, ‘sacrifice everything to rise in the ranks,’ plan, doesn’t it?”  She tapped his shoulder.  
“I’d like to see you prove it.”  
“That a challenge?”  
“Sure is.”  
“Okay, but if I can, you owe me.”  
                He put his knuckles on his hips, “Owe you what, exactly?”  
“I don’t know yet.”  She inched her way in the bedroom, eager to start tossing it, “But when I do, you’ll be the first one to hear about it.”

 

…

 

                Preston and Danse walked up the stairs that emptied out in what seemed to be a rooftop shed.  The ceiling was metal, but its missing plates gave them a brilliant view of the afternoon sky.  A chem station was in the corner, with small sets of shelves holding raw materials.   A book case had been reutilized into storage, lined with buckets and supplies.  It ran the length of a narrow corridor with a door at the end.  
“Nora told us it used to be the governor’s mansion.” Preston leaned his rifle in the hall, and proceeded outside.  
                The terrace was breathtaking.  Clay pots of all colors held plants on top of the waist-high edge, and a barrel fire burned to accent them.  A lamp post was resting in its own corner, giving the space a warm glow.  A potted tree, small and weak in nature, leaned against the wall for support.  
                Preston directed him to the other side, where a bright neon “OPEN” sign hung on carefully placed nails.  
_“Seems like a waste of electricity.”_  
                Next to it “SANCTUARY” was spelled in illuminated letters with an arrow pointing down to it, flashing like a beacon.  Danse imagined seeing it from afar.  
_“If that’s not asking for trouble, I don’t know what is…”_  
                There was a bench under the signs, but Preston passed it.  He placed his hands on the solid cement railing, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.  
                Danse had seen Maxson take the same stance at the Command Deck of the _Prydwen._   And just like then, he took to Preston’s side.  
“Quite the view.”  
                Preston huffed, “It was even better before your _blimp_ ruined it…”  
                The sun set behind the floating ship.  It was farther away than what made Danse comfortable.  
“At least the rest of this place has come along nicely.”  He took his hood off, and shook his hair free.  
“You might not have been able to look passed it’s state when we arrived, but we’ve cleaned it up.”  He turned towards him, casting a shadow over the left half of his face.  
“Look, Preston…I don’t think I’ve ever said this, but I’m sorry about what happened.  Leaving was a hard decision.”  
                He tried to sound as sincere as possible.  
“Speak softly and bring superior firepower, eh?” Preston snickered, “Maybe once we deal with the immediate problem, you can stumble through a better apology.”  
                Preston gave him the same inquisitive glare he’d given Danse and his team when they met.  
                He crossed his arms, gripping his biceps, “If you don’t lift the embargoes off your settlements, our soldiers will starve.  And without us, everything you’ve done for these people will be left vulnerable to the Institute.”  
“Don't test my patience…” Preston nodded to the sky, “You guys just replaced the Institute as the biggest threat here.”  
                Danse reeled his anger in, “If history's proven anything, it's that an overwhelming show of force has a chance of halting a conflict before it begins.  The _Prydwen’s_ arrival is no different.” _  
_ “You’re going to save us whether we like it or not, is that it?”  
                Danse swung his arms out to his sides, raising his voice, “I don't know! Since you have all the answers, why don't you tell me?”  
                His gloves crinkled as his fingers tightened in response.  
                Danse silently scolded himself for losing his temper, hoping he didn’t blow it.  
                Preston’s shoulders finally relaxed, and he exhaled a long, drawn-out breath.  
“I can defend a perimeter against all odds.  I can get my men through a firefight.  However, there’s something we need that not even the Minutemen can get all by ourselves.”  He remained calm, “You help us, maybe we can help you.”  
                The back and forth squabbling was starting to give Danse a headache, and he welcomed some leeway with cooperation.  
“What did you have in mind?”  
                Preston pushed away from the railing, and walked to the bench.  He took a seat, folded his legs, and placed his hat on his knee, “We've gotten big enough that we're having trouble consistently communicating with all our settlements. It's a good problem to have, but…”  
                He rubbed his temples, his chin swaying with the motion.  
“But?”  
“We need a radio station that will let us respond immediately when people need help.”  
                Danse leaned his lower back against the railing, “I take it you have a solution?”  
“Yep.  It’s time the Minutemen retake the Castle.”  
“The Castle?”  
“It used to be the Minutemen HQ, way before my time.  Well-fortified, centrally-located, and most important - it has a powerful radio transmitter we can use to broadcast _anywhere_.”  Preston saddened, “A lot of our leaders were killed in the battle that lost it, and I guess nobody ever felt it was worth the risk to try to retake it…”  
                Danse bit back an insensitive smile, thankful that Liera and EV recalibrated the Revere Satellite Array.  
                The Brotherhood needed the assistance of the Militia, and now, it seemed the Minutemen needed help from the Brotherhood.  
“What happened to it?”  
“This was long before I joined up,” Preston adjusted himself, “But the story I heard was that some kind of monster came out of the sea and destroyed it…Well, parts of it.”  
“Come on…A sea monster?”  
“You just showed up with a 20-foot-tall ‘Titan.’ You telling me you can't keep an open mind after that?”  
“When you put it that way…”  He rubbed the back of his head, “So, all you want is help taking this Castle?”  
“Want?” Preston shrugged, “I'd say we _need_ it if we want to bring the whole Commonwealth under our protection.”  
“Our?”  
“Yeah, _our._   The Brotherhood and the Minutemen.” He grinned, “Whether that comes to light is up to you.  You can either accept my terms, or not. If you don't, then I'll know where we stand.”  
                Danse hesitated, “And you’ll lift the embargo?”  
“Yeah, obviously...Do we have a deal?”  
                It would take a lot of firepower.  A lot of men.  Permission from Elder Maxson.  
“Let’s make it happen.”  
                They sat in each other’s company for a bit, surveying the land from where they rested.  
“I appreciate you taking the time to speak with me man to man, Paladin.”  
“I appreciate you taking the time to _listen_.”  He sighed under his breath, “Let’s hope Maxson does the same.”  
“Convincing him is _your_ job.” He turned his head, looking at the _Prydwen,_ “How’s my buddy Arthur and his new sidekick holding up, anyway?”  
                There was sarcasm and pain in his tone.  Nora had been around just long enough to sink her claws in him.  
“They’re…fine.”  Danse grimaced, remembering his conversation with Maxson, “Nora’s up to her old scheming, as usual.”  
“She’s attracted to power.  He had more than I did, apparently.”  His brows dug deep.  
“Don’t discredit yourself.  You brought Maxson’s army to its knees when you cut us off from your settlements.”  
                Preston released a laugh, “I wouldn’t say that.  I don’t know a lot about that Titan, but I’m pretty sure she could’ve wiped us out.”  
“Could? Sure.  Would she have done it, though?  Not likely.  Just as Knight Lastimosa said, the Brotherhood doesn’t own her.”  
“Truth be told, I was glad you brought the robot with you.  Wouldn’t have believed the stories if I hadn’t seen her with my own eyes.  Thought it was just a bunch of boogeyman stories stemmed from paranoia.”  He stretched, “But whatever’s waiting for us at the Castle, she’ll be helpful, that’s for sure.”  
                Danse reflected on everything the Brotherhood had demanded from Liera and EV.  All the strides they’d made with them at their side.  
“Everyone needs her help, and Lastimosa’s…” He sighed, “That’s the problem…”  
“Why is that a problem?”  
“Because she’s killing herself.  She charges full speed ahead, all the time, no questions asked.  She doesn’t know when to sit things out…Not that she could, being at Maxson’s beck and call…”  
                Preston leaned up with a mischievous grin on his face, “You care about her.”  
                Danse blinked in surprise, his neck snaking backwards, “Of course I do.  She’s a member of my team.”  
“Uh-huh.  I may have been through a lot of bullshit in my life, but I know a budding love when I see it.”  
“I don’t…”  
                He’d never been good at lying, and Preston had always been one to call him on his attempts.  
“…Know _what_ it is, or what to do about it…”  
                Preston wasn’t with the Brotherhood, and at one point, they were friends.  Confiding in him didn’t strike Danse as a risk.  
                Preston pushed himself up, “I’ve got some untouched Nuka-Cola stashed away in the cellar.  Why don’t we crack a few open like we used to?”  
“Uh…Sure, if they’re not radiated.”  
“You think I’d offer you radiated beverages?”  
“The barkeep at Bunker Hill did.”  
“Wait, you talking about Joe?” Preston grinned, “How the heck is he?!  I haven’t seen him in ages!”  
                The two carried on, walking down the steps towards the lower levels of the house.  
                Danse enjoyed the change of pace, eager to converse with someone not dressed in Brotherhood insignias that reminded him to be professional.

 

…

 

                Night had fallen over the Commonwealth, dark like when Liera and the rest of the team left on their journey.  She ate her rations, disgruntled by her search of Nora’s bedroom coming up empty-handed.  All she found was a bunch of old, crummy IMC military fatigues and a couple of condoms that expired 200 years ago.  
_“Don’t think they calculated nuclear holocaust in their product warranty.”_  
                She sat around one of the fires outside with the others, and Haylen looked at the stars.  
“It’s hard to believe the weather cleared up.  Getting here was like something out of a horror story.”  
                Liera nodded, shoveling more of the lukewarm soup in her mouth, “I’d go through it all again if it meant I got a _real_ meal…Haven’t had one since I left the _MacAllan._ ”  
“It’s been…what, 6 months for us?” Rhys asked Haylen.  
“About.”  
“Yeah, so stop whining.”  
                Liera gave him a quick smile, pushing a laugh out of her nose.  
“They’ve been up there for a while.” Haylen put her empty can down.  
“I’m sure he’s got it under control.” Rhys unleashed a deep-chested belch, “’Scuse me.”  
“You’re disgusting.” Haylen grimaced.  
“You live with me, you should be used to it by now.”  
“You’ve got a point.  Your burps don’t even come close to the sounds your ass makes in your sleep.”  
                Rhys laughed, and _loud_.  It was the first time Liera heard it happen.  
“Guess I lucked out,” She scraped the inside of her can, “Danse only _talks_ in his sleep.”  
“So do you.” Haylen smirked, “Who’s Ryan _?_ ”  
                Liera’s spoon stopped moving, “Pardon?”  
“While you were out, you called for someone named Ryan when I came to check up on you and Danse.” She leaned forward, almost eager.  
“He…” Liera paused, “He was an ex-IMC officer who went rogue in the middle of his mission.  Helped a tent-full of kids evacuate on a Militia ship, and decided to stay with us.”  
                To her surprise, Rhys seemed interested, “Telling the IMC to shove it must’ve taken some balls, considering what you’ve told us about them.”  
                The tearing in her chest started to mend, and talking about him hurt less.  
“Oh, yeah.  Ryan Royal, the one-man army.  Larger than life; only way to describe him. When he walked in a room? You knew it immediately.”  She smiled at his memory, “He just had this… _Essence_ to him.  People fed off it, they were _inspired_ by it.  Made you want to be better, even if you thought you were the best.”  
“Sounds like you have a lot of personal experience.”  Haylen winked.  
“Yes, Haylen, I _fell in love with him._ ”  She mocked her with a condescending tone, and it forced a laugh out of the Scribe, “He even moved in with my family and I some time after we ran the Gauntlet together.”  
“Wait,” Rhys held up his hand, “He was a Pilot?”  
“Hell yeah, he was.  He made Top Gun, too.  Only other Pilot in our Company that did.”  
“And you served together?”  
“Yep.”  Liera put her hands up, and pulled them apart as if making a banner out of thin air, “LastiRoyal.  That’s what they called us.  Blew a lot of shit up together and worked out any emotional crap in bed.”  
“Ugh-“ Rhys ran a hand down his face, “That’s just…Unprofessional.”  
                Haylen released a boisterous laugh. But it faded, and the side of her mouth pulled up her cheek in concern, “Was he…onboard the _MacAllan_?”  
“Nah…” Her brows pulled together, “IMC got to him 2 years ago.”  
                She lowered her head, and the two looked at her with their shock suppressed.  
“I’m sorry to hear that.”  
“It is what it is...” Liera leaned back on one arm, looking at the night sky, “He’s up there somewhere, watching me stumble through life and calling me clumsy.”  
“You never struck me as the religious type.”  
“Rhys, come on.”  Haylen nudged him.  
“It’s alright.”  Liera smiled, “I mean, I’m _not_.  Pilots have their own traditions and beliefs, but we don’t really call it a religion.”  
“Like what?” He asked.  
“Eh, that’s a loaded question…One example are these things we call burn cards.  You write a wish, burn the card, then wait and see what happens.  Really deep, right?”  
“Heh.” He grunted, “Yeah.  Super emotionally-charged.”  
“Have you ever burned a card?” Haylen cocked her head.  
“Plenty.  Can’t tell you what was on them, though.  That’s one of the rules.”  
“Damn.  You knew that was gonna be my next question, didn’t you?”  
“Sure did.”  
                The fire burned hot, keeping the group warm in the chilly air.  It hadn’t been that long since they all met, but Liera felt a bond with them that reminded her of when she was deployed with the rest of the Marauders.  
“Well, it’s getting late.” Rhys stood, “I’m gonna lay down and try to get some sleep before Preston kicks us out.”  
                He offered a hand to Haylen, and she used it to pull herself up, “ _If_ he kicks us out.”  
“Hmph, we’ll see…You coming, Lastimosa?”  
                She shook her head, “Staying out here for a bit.”  
“Suit yourself.”  He waved, “Night.”  
“Night, guys.”  
                Haylen followed, pausing just before she passed Liera.  She opened a pocket on her thigh, and flipped open a note book, sliding a small pencil out of the loop of its ringed binding.  She tore a page out, and offered it.  
“What’s this?” Liera watched her curiously.  
                Haylen wagged the pencil next to the piece of paper, “Send a prayer back home.”  
                The gesture warmed her heart, and her eyes widened in surprise.  She slowly raised her hands to accept the items, “T-thank you…”  
“You’re welcome.” She patted her shoulder, and disappeared in the home.  
                Liera looked at the blank page, the pencil pinched between her fingers.  She was taken off guard, and fought with the right words.  
_“It’s been a long time…”_  
                Haylen’s voice trailed through one of the broken windows, “Can you imagine what having a home feels like?  To just…Have an entire house to call yours, knowing that no matter where you go, it’ll always be there…Waiting…”  
“No,” Rhys admitted, “Not at all.”  
                Liera could.  Vividly.  
                A humble home; not too big, not too small…Sitting in the middle of Moonbrooke in the suburbs of Radiance, being maintained by her family’s superintendents that kept their affairs in order while they were deployed.  
                It was lost upon the burning stars, far out of her reach.Across galaxies that not even the Militia had taken time to explore.  
                On the other side of the universe…There was Harmony.  
                Where people went to work.  Went out to eat if they didn’t feel like cooking.  Where the weather was gentle on its people’s skin and the air was sweet.  Where the Militia lifted the burdens from the citizens of the Frontier, aiming their best to provide a peaceful life.  
                Home.  
                It was far away. But it was waiting.  
                Her pencil moved autonomously, not necessarily guided by a conscious decision.  
_“I pray I’m not the only one alive, waiting to go back_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Behind the Scenes:**  
>  Check out [Chapter 43](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10296845/chapters/29411631) of _"The Archive,"_ for more screenshots and commentary!
> 
> *High Noon Definition: An event or confrontation that is likely to decide the final outcome of a situation.


	26. Trojan Horse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Tell me, Muse, of the man of many devices,_  
>  _Who wandered far and wide after he had sacked Troy's sacred city,_  
>  _And saw the towns of many men and knew their mind."_  
>  -Homer, The Odyssey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Slash and burn:** Method of agriculture in which existing vegetation is cut down and burned off before new seeds are sown.

* * *

* * *

                 tars took the form of celestial decorations, twinkling in the cloudless sky.  Crickets fiddled their wings, creating a tune for flashing lightning bugs.  Crops were given time to rest without eager claws scrubbing at their roots.  The streets were barren of settlers meandering through their day.  
                Sanctuary was asleep.  
                Liera’s hopelessness was reduced to small specs of burnt existence.  Its ashes popped under fire, filling the air with a peaty scent.  She inhaled, and it became her.   
_“It might not be a burn card…but I hope whoever’s listening hears me anyway.”  
_                 She spent her days surrounded by people she knew, people who knew _her._   On Earth, she remained an eclectic outlander, shipwrecked in a sea of acquaintances and friendships.  
                To look at someone and think that she’d known them for years, and remember the things they’d been through; when they first met…That feeling was absent, much like her identity.   
                It was always “Pilot,” or “Knight,” nowadays.  She felt nameless.  Out of place.   The square peg being forced in Earth’s round hole.  
_“Might need another analogy.”  
_                 Her finger pressed against the screen of her wrist computer, swiping through images of distant ties:  
                Her and Tai.  Akane and Sage.  Ryan and Chris.  Liam and Rex.  The Marauders together on Graduation Day.  
                Still, the faces of former everyday-encounters held the least amount of nostalgia.  It was the face she never paid much attention to that haunted her the most.  
                Smooth, terracotta skin with icy sapphires for eyes.  Plush lips, not worn and cracked.  Thick, black hair that was braided with loose strands slipping from the knots, having one side shaved shorter than the other.  
“Pilot?”  
                Liera sniffed, “Yeah?”  
“You are in distress.”  
                She looked up to the walls of Nora’s house, solid in some parts, patchworked in others.  Sanctuary as a whole was a resuscitated corpse; twitching with spasms, yet missing an integral part of being alive.  
                She had a lot more in common with the place than she thought.  
“Just seeing myself without all these enhancements…I wish I could go back.  Tell younger me to not be so stupid.”  
“Growth is a significant part of life.”  
“I know...”  Liera sighed, “But the slash and burn of it all is getting old.”  
                The camera roll spun as she swiped it with more vigor.  It finally landed on a chrome-flushed image of Liera and EV in the Titan Bay.  
“Remember the day I plugged your core in?”  She smiled, “Watching you wake up for the first time, and being with you while you learned about the world…It made me excited to grow alongside you.”  
“We’ve had quite the journey, Pilot.”  
“Sure have.” She brushed her hair back, “And to think, we’re just getting started…”  
                Jack’s face popped up, just below the time stamp in the upper left-hand corner.  
_“Having all these strangers call me Sister…And being expected to call them Brother?  That title’s reserved for him…”  
_                 She pressed play on the Pilot’s Log, smiling fondly at her family’s kitchen. 

 

\---

  
  
                Liera’s helmet sat on the table, aimed at the two siblings from a distance.  
“First deployments tomorrow.  You excited?”  
                Liera looked down, tugging at her sleeve, “Yeah.”  
“Hey,” Jack punched her shoulder, “Stop worrying.”  
“I’m not.”  
“Yes you are.” He pulled a chair out for her.  
                She sat next to him, and folded her arms on her lap.  
“Remember when that kid was messing with you during your first year in the Academy?” He asked.  
“Tch…Which _one_?”  
“The really bad one.  What was his name…Started with an M…”  
“Matt Frank?”  
“Yeah, _that_ little shit.”  
                Liera grinned, “You called his mom and told her what was going on.  Then you told me you would’ve kicked his ass if he wasn’t 12.”  
“Right, and remember when the counselor pulled us in, wondering why your 16-year-old brother was taking care of you?”  
“Uh-huh.  Where was dad deployed again?”  
“Eh, who knows?”  Jack leaned on his elbow, “Point is, I’ve _always_ had your back.  And when we head out tomorrow, and you’re mopping the floor with IMC? I’ll be right there with you – on the ground, cheering you on…Probably lobbing grenades, but still, cheering.”  
                Her lip quivered, and she inhaled sharply through her nose.  
“Thanks, Coop.”  
                He hugged her, and patted her back.  
“Don’t mention it…Just make sure EV doesn’t step on me.”

 

\---

  
  
                The mistake of revisiting the memory delivered swift consequences.  Liera muffled her sobbing with her arm, a crushing wave of guilt flooding her chest. Jack _did_ always have her back.  And the one time he needed her most, she was nowhere to be found.  
                The only thing in this world she wanted was to hear from her family.  From anyone.  Just to know she wasn’t alone - wasn’t forgotten.  
“I miss them so much…” Her words were constricted, held in limbo by a weight dropped to her core.  
                A rustle in the tall grass pulled her attention forward, and a cluster of footsteps clicked on the sidewalk.  A furry figure with long, pointy ears cocked its head on the other side of the fire.  Its tongue dangled from its snout, and its huge, amber eyes glowed with orange reflection.  
                Liera wiped her eyes with her sleeve, leaning to the side to get a better view.  
                The dog was much bigger than the jackals back home, and its coat was thicker. It was brown and black in color, its tail wagging playfully above its hind legs.    
“What’s up, buddy?” Liera held her hand out, rubbing her fingers together, “What’s your name?”  
                Its ears went flat as it rounded the fire pit, pushing its head against her palm.  
“Cuddly thing, aren’t you…”  
                She scratched behind its ears and on the side of its head, giggling as its eyes fluttered in pleasure.  It rolled on his back, and she rubbed its belly.   
_“Male, from the looks of it.”_  
                She lifted the tags on his collar, a hammered piece of metal with “Dogmeat,” scratched on it.  
“Huh, that’s a little morbid.” She frowned, “I hope they don’t eat you.”  
                Dogmeat flipped on his belly, his front legs pointed at her as they laid in the dirt.  Bits of grass clung to his coat, and he stood to shake them off.  He inched towards her, putting a giant paw on her shoulder before licking her face.  
“Ugh-Come on-“  
                She pushed at his haunches, surprised by how strong he was.  
“Wouldn’t want to mess with you…” She used her cybernetic arm to put some distance between them.  
                He whimpered.  
“I know, I cheated.”  
                Dogmeat gave her a low bark, and jumped backwards.  
“What are you doing?”  
                He ran in a circle, and dashed away before turning to her again, barking from across the street.  His chest fell to the road, his tail raised high in the air.  He barked again, his ears shooting from his head.  
“Does he want me to follow him?”  
                EV contemplated the question before answering, “It appears so.”  
                Liera wasn’t sure if she was permitted to move freely around the settlement, and didn’t want to cause any issues… but everything _seemed_ quiet enough to walk around without suspicion.  She crossed the desolate road to her new canine companion.  
“What do you want to show me, boy?”  
                Dogmeat guided her to the slab of cement Sturges called his workshop, just across the way from the fire.  An old woman slouched in a rocking chair, her pink slippers highlighted by the lantern in the corner.               The curved handle rattled in her hand, and she lifted the caged flame to her face.  
                She wore a blue headscarf with large, metal circles for earrings.  Her eyes were gray and cloudy, bloodshot around the pupils.  Her skin was wrinkled, and her teeth were tinged yellow behind thin lips that smiled.  
“This your pup?” Liera blurted, nerves frayed.  
“You can't own a free spirit like that.  He led you to me ‘cause he knew you needed my help.”  Her accent matched the barkeep at Bunker Hill, thick and twangy, “Come here, let me have a look at you.”  
                Liera hesitated like a mouse approaching a trap.  She gulped and inched forward, unwillingly closing the gap between her and the bossy woman.  She paused on the edge of the open porch, brows pinched, glaring at the dog.  
“I said closer, kid.  I’m old.” The woman beckoned her, leaving her arm extended.  
                It shook in the flickering light, barely able to remain suspended.  Liera wasn’t sure what she was reaching for.  She narrowed her eyes, and angled her chin to keep her implants facing the road.  
                But the woman moved with a sudden quickness, and cupped her chin in her pruned hand.  
“Hey-“  
                She rotated Liera’s head by the grip on her jaw, inspecting the silver slivers emblazoned on her skull.  
“You're not what I expected Dogmeat would find. But oh, so much better.”  The old woman released her.  
                Liera rubbed the lines of her face, two tight fingerprints looming on her flesh.  The woman rocked back and forth.  
“This world…It's not yours.  But here you are…”  Her voice was raspy, like she smoked too many cigarettes, “You a hero, girl.  Comin’ here, helpin’ us.”  
                Liera had never met this woman before, but she spoke as if she knew of the orders she was instructed to carry out.  
“Just doing my job.”  She mumbled.  
“Oh, I like you.”  She patted her chest as she coughed, “You're just what the Commonwealth needs. And I hope your heart stays true. You need to stay strong. Like you been. 'Cause you're gonna walk a long, hard road…I _saw_ it.”  
                She came off as more than cryptic.  She was almost as delusional as Brandis, just with an otherworldly presence.  
“Saw it?’”  
“It's the chems, kid. They give ole Mama Murphy the ‘Sight.’ Been that way for as long as I can remember.”  She lifted a pale hand to the sky, “I can see a bit of what was, and what will be. And even what is, right now.”  
                Liera huffed, crossing her arms, “And just what else do you ‘see?’”  
“You're tied to this place, kid. Your energy.”  She reached out for Liera’s arm, and gripped her cybernetic arm, “Your mother.”  
                Her eyes widened, and her jaw hung on a hinge.  
                She looked to her arm, a device that came to life because of Evelyn’s blueprints.  Evelyn, who was born on Earth.  
“You're looking for a man. He can help you, but he’s somewhere...deep...and dark.  Surrounded by folks with nothin' but cruel intentions.”  Her voice shuddered, “There's...An echo...Something in the past that can help you.”  
                She pointed at Liera’s pocket that held the holotape, “You're on the right path.  He's the one. He wears all the pain he's caused like a shield.”  
                She started hacking, holding her chest, and Liera snapped out of her trance.  
“Are you okay?” She put a hand on Murphy’s back, pushing her upright, “Do you need me to get help?”  
“No, I’m fine…The two of us been jawwin’ long enough.” She pointed to the abyss, “Vault 111 is the next step in your journey, kid.  You’ve got a job to do…”  
                Liera took the lantern from Murphy’s grip as she started to drift off.  She returned it to the ground, Dogmeat looking up at her eagerly.  
                Her head was spinning, trying to sort through the encounter.  Dogmeat nipped at her heels, and she swatted him away.  
“What are you-“  
                He took off, stopping after a short distance to see if she was following.  
_“Guess there’s someone listening after all.”_  

 

**…**

 

                Danse and Preston had talked for hours.  They were alone on the second floor of the Common House.  It was flat with the walls knocked out, converted into a recreational area.  They sat at either end of a table, a checkers board in the middle.  It probably wasn’t the best game for two strategic soldiers to play, but it lessened the blow when the inevitable ‘question-and-answer’ session about Liera and EV came and went.  
“When one of my scouts reported she saw something fall from the sky, I didn’t believe her.” Preston picked up a checker, and moved it to a spot that put Danse on the defense, “We went to investigate near Walden Pond, and found nothing but a crater.  I thought someone dropped a mini-nuke or something, so we left it alone and called it a day…”  
                Preston swallowed hard, his chin meeting his scarf as he lowered his head, “A lot of things are coming together, now.”  
                Danse grunted, “Speak for yourself…”  
“Some of the pre-war Ghouls…” Preston leaned back, not focusing on their game anymore, “Most of them have shit memories, but the ones that remember things?   They talk about some crazy stuff.  Ships the size of floating cities.  Other planets near ours, and others farther away.  Stuff that makes no one believe _anything_ that comes out their mouths.”   
                Danse tensed, “That’s because they shouldn’t be _saying_ anything…They should be put out of their misery.”  
“No offense, Paladin, but you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”  
“After everything I’ve just told you, offending me should be the least of your worries right now.”  
“And after what I just told _you_ , projecting your racism should be the least of _your_ worries.”  Preston crossed his arms, “The Brotherhood’s all about dwelling in the past, right?  Uncovering our history, lost technology, all that.  You’d turn your back on Ghouls that have been alive since before the war, but a pretty little Vault Dweller comes stumbling by and then you want to hear what she has to say?”  
                Danse pursed his lips, biting back more slurs fueled by hatred.  
“The Ghouls I’ve talked to have been more forthcoming than her, by miles.  I used to think all of it was made up.  But when I signed on with the Minutemen under Ezra Hollis’s company, I started traveling the Commonwealth more and more, lending the people a hand.  I heard the same stories from the Ghouls back home, all over.  To me, there wasn’t any way they could _all_ be crazy, with the exact same stories.  When I met old General Becker, he just confirmed my beliefs.”  
“The General before you?”  
“…Yeah, we’ll go with that.”  His lips pursed, “Anyway, he told me a story about a ship that came through back in ’59, three years after I was born.  The way he described it, it was nothing like anyone had ever seen…Told me the Ghouls weren’t crazy, and there was some truth to all their tales of space science and other planets.”  
“He said a ship rolled through here…28 years ago?”  
“According to Becker, yeah.  That’s all he had to say about it.  I’d say you could ask him, but…”  He hesitated, as if speaking of it pained him, “Well, you know what happened.”  
“I do.”  Danse sighed, “I’m sorry.”  
“I guess I have a history with not believing people and then being proven wrong…” His eyes flicked to Danse, “And I really hope you prove me wrong…Especially now that we’re faced with the Institute, _and_ some galaxy-conquering army…”  
“Plan on it.”  Danse snickered, “We’re not sure how the Institute and the IMC are connected yet.  Following our most recent lead is the _other_ reason we came here.”  
“Is that so?”  
“It revolves around Nora and the Vault.” Danse gripped his chin, “She’s hiding something, and I want to know what.”  
                Preston put his hat on the table, “She’s about as dishonest as they come.  Promised to help me rebuild the Minutemen, and then left us after Maxson presented her with a better…deal.”  
“She’s not my most favorite person in the world, either.  Liera and I have protected Rhys and Haylen by keeping our investigation to ourselves…But if we’re heading out tomorrow, we need in that Vault _tonight._ ”  
“Anything that’ll get dirt on Nora is good on my account.  Do what you need to do.” Preston rubbed his cheek, nulling a yawn, “It’s getting late.  Better get moving if you’re heading out.”  
                Danse pushed himself upright, eyes locked on the stairs leading to the lowest level of the Common House, “I’ll brief the others tomorrow before our deployment.”  
“Night, Paladin.  Good talk.”  
“Good night, General…” Danse mumbled, ducking to avoid hitting his head as he stepped down the stairs. _  
_                 He left the house and walked along the crooked sidewalk, eager to rejoin his team and tell them of the good news.  He checked his watch, not realizing how long he’d been gone.  
_“10:07…We were talking for 3 hours?”_  
                A freshly stomped-out fire marked the entrance to Nora’s house.  Rhys and Haylen rolled in their sleeping bags, tossing with static crinkles.  Danse stood in the doorway, confused by the two-person headcount.  
                He’d checked the other rooms, but Liera was nowhere to be found.  
_“Where did she go?”  
_                 A dog’s bark rolled down the hill and into a broken window.  A blue light shifted in the darkness in the woods behind the house.  Two orange bursts flared from underneath, just as Liera’s jump kit would.  
_“…Oh.”_

**…**

 

The stars were aligned, the universe steering her along the right path.  There were flowers growing along a brook, stark white against the ink of night.  The moon highlighted their figures, giving them a phantom glow.  A calm breeze slipped between the bare branches of the desolate forest, clanking them together in a blend of ash and petals.  The sponged earth muted her footsteps, but Liera’s mind wouldn’t be silenced so easily.  
“You think what that guy said at Bunker Hill had any merit?  About the Brotherhood and their…mentality?”  
“I have not encountered a race outside of the human species that the Brotherhood has spoken fondly of.  Their keen sense of honor and duty could be interpreted as elitism.  And, they do in fact have Power Armor.  Their views on other countries are lost upon me, so I cannot form a proper opinion on the claims of xenophobia.  Conclusion: Yes, they appear to hold some merit.”  
                Liera frowned, “Do you think we’re fighting for the bad guys?”  
“We are fighting for the Frontier Militia, the apparent ‘good guys,’ in the Frontier War.”  
“No, I mean the Brotherhood…”  
“Your assimilation into the Brotherhood of Steel has yielded valuable results in regard to upholding Operation: Wasteland Order.  We cannot afford to lose sight of the larger issue at hand.”  
                She squinted, “That doesn’t answer my question.”  
“What I am suggesting is that even if the Brotherhood is viewed poorly upon by the rest of the Commonwealth, they are the most productive ally to have during our mission.  Follow-Up: Morality of Brotherhood of Steel is irrelevant.”  
“EV, we can’t protect them from the IMC if we can’t protect them from themselves.”  
“Even that statement is reminiscent of Elder Maxson’s own sentiments.”  
                Liera decided to drop the conversation.  
                A flock of birds flew from their perch, startled by Dogmeat’s presence.  She gave them a weary glance.  
_“Spying little fucks…”_  
                The hill tapered off, its shallow incline bending to the left.  They were greeted by a round plate dug deep into the ground.  White and blue, its paint was scraped away in splotches across the surface.  The platform in the center was small, but the structure itself matched EV in length.  
                “Vault 111,” was marked on either side, creating a full circle with a title.  
“Know how to open it?”  
                EV’s sonar pulse penetrated the earth, scaling so far down that Liera’s visor lost track of it.  An orange light trailed to a shed-sized building next to her.  
“Pilot, it appears the elevator’s control mechanism is located inside the outpost.  Please be advised, it is paired with an alert system.  Required data knife override to disable.”  
                 A ramp connected to the open doorway, a skeleton in old Vault-Tec branded clothing sprawled at the peak.  
“Well, that’s reassuring…”  
                She stepped over the body leading into the control room with care, not wanting to disturb the dead any more than she had to.  
                Dogmeat started barking.  
                Her neck snapped to the hill, and a red mess of infrared signatures pooled on the other side.  
_“Busted-“  
_                 She turned her flashlight off, and hit her cloak.  Dogmeat ran to the person on approach, tackling them.  His own heat signatures moved back and forth, almost violently.  The person struggled to get him off.  
                Liera skulked around the corner, her rifle pointed forward and her knees at a bend.  She hunted the pinned visitor.  
“Hey-pffft-Dogmeat-“ The person groaned under his weight, “You’ve gotten big, boy-“  
                Liera shot the two a glare, unbeknownst to them.  
                She lowered her weapon at her side and clicked the flashlight on again.  
                Dogmeat licked Danse’s face repeatedly as he struggled to get him off.  
“It seems you’re well acquainted with my new friend.” Using both her hands, she pulled him to his feet, stumbling backwards.  
“What the hell are you doing up here, all alone?”  
“I’m not alone…Well, wasn’t.” Liera nodded to Dogmeat.  
                He trotted down the hill, disappearing in the shadows leading back to Sanctuary.  She couldn’t help but feel a tad disappointed, having grown fond of him.  He was a cute pup.  
“And…” She continued, “An underground bunker is kind of hard to hide from EV’s scanners.  Didn’t take much for us to find it.”  
“It’s dangerous.  And you’re still sick.”  
                Liera shrugged with her Hemlok, “I came prepared.”  
“You can’t _shoot_ rad poisoning…” He continued to clean his face and fix his hair, following her back to the top of the hill, “You should have waited for me.”  
“You can only keep a girl like me waiting for so long…” She snickered, pointing her visor over her shoulder, “I take it everything went well?”  
“It, uh, yes.  It did.”  
“Glad to hear.”  
                 The control hub was white and dirtied, the innermost wall stained red with rust displaced from rain.  Her flashlight was a single cone, disturbing the darkness with each turn.  
“That’s it?” He asked from outside, “No questions?”  
“I’ve got enough on my mind right now.” Liera studied a pedestal near the observation window, crowned with a red button.  
“Is everything okay?” His voice came closer.  
“No,” She ran her fingers along the edges of a panel, setting her rifle down, “You remember that guy that sat next to us at the bar at Bunker Hill?”  
“The one in the leather jacket?”  
                She turned her head to find him leaning in the entryway, grimacing at the skeleton on the ground, “That’s the one.”  
“Yes.”  
“Well, after you guys threw your little temper tantrum and left me alone with him, he started talking to me about things.  Then he gave me this.” She dug in her pocket, and pulled out the holotape, “He repeated Brandis, word-for-word: ‘They’re everywhere. Listening.  Watching.’”  
“So, let me get this straight.  That guy repeated Brandis’s ramblings verbatim and gave you a holotape?”  
“Not just any holotape.”  Liera held it out, “This is another one of Nathan’s logs.”  
                Danse held it to his face, “’The _Odyssey’_...  That was the ship mentioned in the Colony G21 recording, wasn’t it?”  
“Yeah.  After G21 was abandoned, the colonists fled to the ship MacAllan ‘stole’ from Graves…”  
“Did this mysterious character mention anything else?”  
                Liera shook her head, “Later.”  
_“Save the bird talk for tomorrow.  Keep him focused.”  
_                 She bit back the information, wondering how pissed he was going to be.  
“Okay, but we should really talk about-”  
“Not now.”  She withdrew her knife, and started prying open the panel underneath the red button, “We need to listen to his tape before we go down there.  He wanted me to have it for a reason.”  
                An audible sigh left his chest.  She felt bad for snapping at him.  
“Can you imagine…Sitting at home, just another normal day.  And then the sirens start blaring.  People start running…”  He frowned at the Vault, his arms crossed and his shoulders sulking.  
                Flashes of sprinting colonists clouded her thoughts.  Families scattering.  Evacuation horns oozing danger into the air.  
“Being on the other side of those sirens isn’t easy either, eh?”  
“The other side?”  
“It’s one thing to be a scared civilian,” She popped the cover off, “It’s another to be a first responder – someone tasked with heeding the call.  It’s a strand of fear without a cure.  Just ask my friend here.”  
                Liera nodded to the skeleton before plugging her data knife’s tip in a socket, letting EV get to work.  
“Hadn’t thought about that.”  He was quiet, “They definitely don’t put it in the job description, do they?”  
“Nope…”  She broke her fixation on the data knife’s scrolling letters and peaked at him.  
                Danse gazed at the stars, silent and thoughtful, “I’ve looked at them differently since I met you and EV.  Before, they were just stars…Now, they’re uncharted territory.  Touchable.”  
“There’s still so much out there we don’t understand.  Entire galaxies we have yet to explore.” She slipped her blade out, and put it back in its holster, “There might even be other intelligent life.”  
                He smirked, “Lucky for you, there weren’t any aliens on Earth.”  
“Yeah.  Debatable.”  
                She hit the button on the console, and a heavy lock dropped underneath.  
“Sounds like it’s open…EV?”  
“The central plate on top of the vault serves as an elevator.”  
“And did you organize the data from the holotape?”  
“…Yes.”  
                Liera opened her visor, and pinched the bridge of her nose, “Well, let’s see what he has to say…”  
“Commencing playback.”

 

  
 ****

 

                Heavy stomps rattled in the microphone.  
"This sector gives me the creeps."  
"I hear ya.”  
“You have no idea…”  Nathan mumbled under his breath, “Not a surprise MacAllan came out here.  Ghosts of the Titan Wars can really haunt your dreams.”  
"You know anything about him?"  
"All I know is he mutinied against Graves when he stole the _Odyssey_ 15 years ago.”  Nathan explained, “Big news back then. They called it 'MacAllan's Mutiny.’”  
“That story is legendary."  
                The three soldiers around him talked in circles.  
"Had a Sergeant in basic diss the IMC.  They branded him a traitor and a terrorist...never saw him again."  
"Turn your back on the IMC, and a bullet's coming your way."  
"They’re relentless against fugitives.  You've gotta be one hell of an operative to stay off their radar, especially for as long as this MacAllan bloke."  
“While we’re on the topic…. Don’t you lot find it strange how badly the military wants MacAllan?  I doubt he has anything to offer ‘em.”  
                Nathan sighed, “He knows a lot more than us, I'll tell you that much."  
"Yeah, rumor is he was Graves’ XO.  I heard he turned the entire crew against the Vice Admiral."  
“Explains why Graves hates him so much.  He’s taking all this very personally.”  
"I don't blame him. A close colleague, someone you trust, someone you would die for completely betrays you? I'd say that makes it personal."  
"I wouldn't want to be in his shoes right now. Not against the Vice Admiral.  I can't even look Graves in the eye.”  
"Roger that."  
                A notification chimed, and the soldiers went quiet.  
  
**“Attention IMC ground forces.  Incoming message from the _IMS_ _Sentinel_.”  
**  
 “Speak of the devil…” Nathan said.  
**  
“** **All personnel, this is Vice Admiral Graves. Our pursuit of the 1st Militia Fleet has produced surprising results.  We have flushed the mutineer, MacAllan, from hiding. MacAllan is now the IMC's most wanted target in this sector. Blisk.”**

**“MacAllan is a notoriously dangerous tactician. If he falls in with the terrorists, then they will gain a considerable advantage. We've picked up transmissions that suggest they will attempt to extract him from the northern plateau, near the wreckage of the _IMS_ _Odyssey_ ; the very ship MacAllan stole from us.”  
  
“All ground forces: Your objective is to eliminate all Militia forces, and secure the site. Under cover of your fire, Blisk's capture team will attempt to locate MacAllan and take him into custody. Good luck, and see you soon.  Graves out.”**

 

\---

 

                Sounds of flight blotted the recording, like they were in a dropship.  A pair of footsteps got louder as they came closer.

 **“I am scanning the wreckage of the ship.  Registered as the _Odyssey,_ reported lost to mutiny under your command, Vice Admiral.”**  Spyglass finished his report.

  
“I’m well aware of the history of the ship, and I know who’s responsible for its present condition.  What I want to know is how it _got_ here.” Graves said, a hatch screeching open afterwards, “It was only a matter of time…”  
                There was a temporary break in his commanding voice, as if he was saddened by conflict.  
“Soldiers, get ready to move!  Neutralize the terrorists and secure the site for salvage recovery!”  
                The sounds of boots hitting the ground and rattling gear drowned out any side conversations that followed.

 **“Listen up!”** Blisk shouted, “ **Wipe out anyone and everyone who gets in your way.  Let’s take this ship back!”**

 

\---

 

                Spyglass addressed them after a few minutes of gunfire, **“Militia forces have penetrated the _Odyssey.”_**

 **“What the hell are they doing in there?  Hiding?”**   Graves snickered, **“Scan for electronic activity.”**

**“Low level frequency only, Vice Admiral.”**

**“Keep an eye on them, Spyglass.  I want to know what they’re up to.”**

"Lambda Squad 3, flank around the carrier!  If you've got eyes on MacAllan or Bish, don't hesitate to take 'em out!"  
                Nathan cut him off, "Graves wants MacAllan _alive_."  
"We'll do our best, sir, but if it's between MacAllan or one of our men, he's going down!"

 

\---

 

A soldier tried to catch his breath, "That carrier is starting up!"  
"This is how Hammond builds stuff,” Nathan panted, “Built to last.  You can beat it up, take it down, tear it apart, it'll still start right back up."  
"That ship's a relic, the _Colossus_ could run circles around that thing."  
"Yeah but our _Colossus_ is a lot thinner. These Andromeda-class ships are legendary...built like tanks."  
"Do you think it was taken apart or did it just fall apart?"  
                The third soldier answered before Nathan could, "It seems like everyone from this carrier set up home here.  Looks like they used the ship parts to build their housing.”  
"Home away from the war? What a coward's way out."  
"I say we rig the self-destruct on the Odyssey and blow 'em all to hell!"  
                Nathan butted in, “You have a death wish or something?  First, it’s blowing up oil rigs, and now this?  You'd wipe out all of us along with it."  
"It's a small price to pay if it kills the Militia's best people."

 **“Vice Admiral,”** Spyglass began, **“I’m detecting increased heat signatures in the _Odyssey’s_ central core.”**

**“They’re trying to spin her up.  But she’s half in the ground…”**

**“Damage to her stabilizers make flight operations impossible, sir.”**

**“They’re not trying to fly her…They’re _looting_ her.  Blisk, flush the terrorists from the ship!”**

**“Aye-aye, Vice Admiral.  So you’re aware, the _Odyssey_ just shook off an engine- not going to be much left to salvage.”** Blisk responded.

                Spyglass cut in, **“Vice Admiral, scans indicate the Militia still have a stable uplink with the _Odyssey’s_ CPU.”**

 **“They’re extracting crucial information from her every second.”**   Graves seemed like he was in a muted panic, **“We _have_ to secure the site immediately…Sever the Militia’s connection, Blisk.  Do whatever it takes.”**

**“Rodger, Vice Admiral.  Cover Team 4, move into the carrier’s side entrance!”**

 

\---

 

                Blisk was in a fury when his next transmission came through, **“Sir, I’m in the ship’s command center.  There’s no one here now, but it looks like MacAllan tapped into the ship’s Archive!”**

 **“Well, Mac, I guess you’re with _them_ now…”**   Graves went quiet before becoming enraged, **“Blisk, return to base!  We’ll deal with MacAllan later!”**

 **“Vice Admiral Graves, scans indicate that MacAllan may have escaped with classified data.”**   Spyglass announced.

**“MacAllan’s got the plans for Demeter.  If the Militia didn’t trust him before, they will now…and if they’re following the playbook, what they need next is in Angel City.”**

**“I will alert all informants in Angel City to be on the lookout.  What is he after, Vice Admiral?”**

**“It’s not a what, Spyglass.  It’s a who…”**

“Who do you think he’s talking abo-“  
                Thundering footsteps pounded on a ceiling.  
“Eyes up! We’ve got Militia Pilots on the ledges!”  Nathan ordered.  
“Contact!”  
                Gunfire ricocheted around.  
“Shit, they’re SRS!”  
“Fall back!  FALL-” Nathan choked, “Rifle Battalion, 10 o’clock!”  
                More gunfire followed. **  
** “What kind of shot was that?!  You just gave away our position!”  
“I just saved your ass!”  Nathan yelled. **  
** “From what, the fumbling Grunts?!  They had no idea we were here until you-”  
“STOP ARGUING WITH ME AND GET TO THE EVAC!”

 

\---

  
  
**[Playing attached file]  
  
**

I saw him.  I fired a warning shot at his battalion before my squad was in formation.

My son… _shot…_ at me.  
  
After everything I’ve done to keep him out of the IMC, I forced him into the Militia.

I should have known better than to believe anyone could stay out of this war…You and I _both_ should’ve.

Operation: Persephone is a go, and it sounds like you already know what to do…

Get Barker.

 

****

  
                It was just them and the stars, their faces barely visible to each other.  Liera shook her head, poking on the computer around her wrist.  
“Did you know the Blacks had a son named Shaun?” She asked.  
“Nora spoke of him frequently.  She believes the Institute has him…It’s what she’s been tracking since she escaped the Vault. She said he was one year old when they were put into cryosleep.”  
“But Nathan just indirectly told us his son was part of the fucking Militia, meaning he had to have been at _least_ 18.  Hell, we’ve probably ran into him, if he didn’t _die_.”  
                EV interrupted them, “I am still processing the information we have gathered from the holotape.  It is unlikely that Nora is lying about the child’s age, judging by the crib located in her abandoned household.  There was only one photograph of a single child, indicating she only gave birth to one offspring.  It is possible Nathan had another child to a different woman.  There are too many variables to form a conclusive hypothesis.  However, there is a new discovery that we must pay attention to.”  
                A digital timeline projected from the attachment on Liera’s helmet with three titles lit up in red, “We have located these holotapes in sequential order of the Demeter Campaign:  
  
Holotape 1: Operation: Fracture  
Holotape 2: The Battle of Troy  
Holotape 3: Rendezvous at the Odyssey  
  
If we follow this assumption, we can conclude that there is a minimum of 6 remaining holotapes left by Nathan Black, as there were 9 key conflicts leading up to Demeter’s explosion.”  
                Liera’s visor pointed at the ground, and then over at the Vault, “I have a feeling we’re going to find a lot more than a holotape in there…”  
“Pilot, I have transferred some of my AI functions into your helmet in order to permit communication underground.”  
“Got it.”  
                Danse walked to the rim of the Vault, proceeding to the platform where an unknown number of others stood before, marking their footsteps in an echo across time.  
“Here we go.”  
                Liera rushed to his side, tapping a button on her wrist’s screen, “Here we go, indeed...”  
                The seals around the perimeter broke, and the elevator lurched.  
                They began their descent into Vault 111.

 

…

 

  
                The platform slid with a screeching noise, and was falling too fast for comfort.  Wheels spun against the chamber, sending off layers of underuse in the form of sparks.  Gears squeaked underneath, riveting and old in their nature.  Sprinkles of dust littered the platform, a thin sheet falling down from the opening that grew farther away as they progressed.  
“I wrote a prayer on a piece of paper and threw it in the fire.  Old Pilot’s tradition.”  Liera started the conversation to calm her nerves, “And then Dogmeat found me and brought me to ‘Mama Murphy.’”  
“I can only imagine how _that_ went…”  
“…She told me this Vault was the next step in my journey.  She knew things she couldn’t have possibly overheard.”  
“Her accuracy _is_ disturbing.”  His voice was low, “She warned me about Fort Strong.  She knew Cutler would be there.”  
                Liera frowned, her knees bending slightly as the platform slowed, “Do you believe in God?”  
                The question slipped from her inner thoughts and worked themselves out on her tongue.  
“I _want_ to believe some all-knowing power is watching over us.  But when I see, every day, what mankind’s folly has done to the world…I’m not so sure I can.”  
“Well, Murphy is convinced ‘mankind’s’ hardships are far from over…”  
“Hmph.  Now _that_ , I can believe.”  
                The darkness of the cog-shaped tunnel melted away into a blinding light.  
                The platform landed in heavy clanks, the motion of its mechanism grinding to a halt.  A mesh gate shook violently as it began to rise, wobbling back and forth as if would shatter upon touch.  The gate got stuck half way, and pushed forward in the form of metal resilience.  
                A yellow entryway marked where their investigation would start, sharing the same shape as the platform.  
“Looks like the inside of the Prydwen around here…” Danse mumbled.  
“What, cold and uninviting?” Liera stepped off, hiding her hesitation to continue.  
“That’s not what I had in mind…”  
                A grated walkway hung from suspension cables, their foots clanking against it in the silence.  It emptied out to a long-forgotten receiving area, with the words, “VAULT 111.  Welcome Home,” sprawled on a concrete overhang.  
_“Doesn’t feel like home to me…”_  
                Metal arms jutted out like archways, not fully touching in the middle.  
“Radiation scanners.” Danse ran a finger over one of them, “Judging from the amount of dust present, it's safe to assume we're the first people to investigate this location in quite a while.”  
                They walked through a swinging gate, only as tall as waist level, “I’m starting to understand why…”  
                More skeletal bodies littered the area, some in lab coats, others in security gear.  One in particular rested in front of a sliding bay door, fully anchored at the top of its frame.  
                It marked the entrance of a cylinder corridor, a twisting cloud of grey at the end of two other, previously opened doors.   
                Vents spewed exhaust in a frosty mist.  The ceiling was formed of winding metal pipes, bolts and rivets, tubes and valves.  A long lightbulb flickered, half of the mercury burn.  Another flashed from the floor, fading as it died and came back to life.  
                Liera stepped around toppled safety cones as she walked through the second door, diving farther in the Vault.  A toolbox sat on a wheeled stand, surrounded by various tools scattered on the floor.  They passed an observation window to their right, frosted over by a thick, crystal sheet.  
“This place would elicit fear in most individuals.” Danse flexed his fingers at his side, “Fortunately, my training prevents-“  
                A muffled static sound broke from a speaker.  
“Wait, what was that?”  He turned around with a start.  
                Liera chuckled, “As you were saying?”  
                A safety alarm blared twice, rising and falling in volume and pitch.  
**“Critical f…ure in cr…enic array.  All Vault residents must…”**  
                The villainous, robotic woman was lost to a mess of pops and static.  
                Liera shivered, “The less time we spend here, the better…Something just feels sinister.”  
“The horrors inflicted in this Vault...it makes my skin crawl.  These residents had no idea they were being duped.  The way Nora tells it, the Vault-Tec representatives told them the chambers were decontamination pods.  They barely escaped the bombs.  Thought they were safe…And then they never woke up.”  
“All except one.”  
                The cryopods at the end of the hall were visible through the shroud now that they were closer.  One was still open, it’s door raised like a shield in a volley.  
_“A sole survivor…”_  
                They had arrived…and she couldn’t force herself to enter the chilled grave of lost souls, unmarked by little else but letters and numbers on the floor.  Water dripped from the labyrinth of pipes that bled into large, frosted baubles, sending ripples in puddles below.  The Vault hummed and quieted, its dying breath coughing through the forms of sparks and frost.  Everything was so…Sterile.  
                Her hand shifted by her side, and warmth spread into her numb fingers.  
“Take a deep breath and concentrate. You can do this.”  Danse squeezed her hand, “I’m right behind you.”  
                Liera pulled the cold air through her nose, and gave him a quick nod, “Whatever’s in there…”  
“We’ll face together.”

 

…

 

                Her hand slipped from Danse’s as she walked down the three stairs leading to the cryopods.  
_“I hope none of those pipes contain explosive liquids...”_  
                His investigation started elsewhere, at a terminal mounted to the wall.  The cursor on its screen still blinked, left open by its previous user.  He took to its keyboard, navigating through the submenus:

**“Welcome to ROBCO Industries ™ Termlink  
Thank you for choosing Vault-Tec!**

**[Cryogenic Array]  
[Life Support]  
[Pod Occupant Status]  
[Eject Holotape]”**  
  
_“A holotape…predictable.”  
                _ He ejected it.  
“I’m fairly certain Nathan left another Pilot’s Log here.  It’s labeled, ‘All Bark.’”  
                Liera turned to him, “Put it aside for now…Keep looking.”  
                Danse wanted to remind her who was in charge, but he put his ego aside with the tape and continued sifting through the terminal.  
                He clicked the first option, curious to see what the status of the Vault was.  
  
**“Cryogenic Array: Offline.  Premature termination resulting in system failure.  Isolated manual and remote overrides detected.  Controls disabled.”**

                He scrunched his nose.  
_“Manual_ and _remote overrides detected?”  
_                 Danse clicked the life support link, hoping to find something more insightful.  
_“Same thing…”  
_                 He checked on the Pod Occupant Status.

**“[Pod C1: Empty]  
Occupant status: Not applicable.  
  
[Pod C2: Mrs. Callahan]  
Occupant status: Deceased. Cause of Death: Asphyxiation due to Life Support failure.**

The rest of the Vault dwellers suffered the same fate.  
_“Gruesome...absolutely gruesome.”  
_                 He skipped down the list, finding the name that prompted his mission. **  
  
[Pod C7: Mrs. Black and Shaun (Infant)]  
**

**1\. Occupant Status: Unknown - - Pod Door Manual Override Engaged.**

**2\. Occupant Status: Unknown - - Remote Override Engaged.  
**  
“Liera,” Danse left the screen up, “I think I found something.”  
                She was silent, clutching something in her hand.  

 

…

 

                Liera swiped a frosted pane of glass, taking a frightened stepped back as a frozen body revealed itself.  The woman was slumped to the side, her head attached to the metal frame of her seat by icy braces.  A vault suit identical to the one Nora wore clung to her.   
                She was a crystalized form of science gone wrong.  
                Liera shook off the cringing feeling, and passed the rest to get to where she sought the most.  
_“C7…?”  
_                 Ice poked from the ripped seams of the chair around an outline of a person, formed by shallow frost.  The opened chamber was disturbingly like the Hammond simulation pods the Militia had salvaged back home.  A carbon copy, in fact.  The seat was the same.  Scanners were in the same spot.  
                The only difference was its function.  
                Quick flashes of light drew her attention to the right.  A pair of dogtags hung on the red manual latch, swaying back and forth in the draft.  She unhooked them, rolling the plates in her hand:  
  
BLACK  
NATHAN  
1 8 5 1 6 0 5 2 2  
O NEGATIVE  
04.17.48  
UNIT: THETA-6  
RATING: PILOT  
  
                Her thumb slid along the track in the middle, the thin square of the onboard USB drive sliding out the rounded end.  
“Liera,” Danse beckoned, “I think I found something.”  
“Me too…”  
                She lifted her wrist, pushing the drive into her computer gauntlet.  
“Holotags?” Danse asked, peering over her shoulder.  
“No.  Nathan’s dogtags.”  
“You can store data on them?”  
“Just enough for your helmet to store the recording of your final moments…”  
“Loading Pilot’s Log…One moment.” EV wrote on the screen.  
                Liera looked up to him, “What did you find?”  
“Nora’s chamber was opened manually, and then again remotely.” Danse crossed his arms, eyeing the chamber, “Someone was physically here to lift the handle…But later, someone opened it from a distance.”  
“Who’d be able to get a signal down here?”  
“Nora told us that the residents were informed they’d receive the All-Clear from Vault-Tec…They must have built some form of communications network to connect with the Vaults.  If someone was able to tap into that network, a signal could have been pushed to the cryogenic array.”  
“So…” Liera turned back to the pod, “This was opened twice?”  
“And closed twice.”  
“That doesn’t make any sense…”  
“Not yet.” EV interrupted, “However, there is a video file on this drive.  It may provide us answers as to what happened in Vault 111.”  
                A holographic display illuminated from the side of Liera’s visor, painting the chambers in blue.  
“This must be what he wanted us to see.” She gulped, “And judging by his communications with us under Fort Strong, it won’t be a recording of him dying…”  
                Danse braced himself, and he guessed from her rigid posture that she did, too.

 

***

 

PILOT’S_LOG_N.BLACK_PERSEPHONE_001 [BLACKLISTED]  
Date: **10/26/2259**  
Location: Vault 111, Earth  
Age: 29  
Occupation: Rank S Pilot, IMC  
Assigned Squadron: Theta-6  
ATLAS REPORT: Black Operations conducted upon receiving encrypted message from self-identified Garrison Black. Terminal offense flags manually erased by [ERR0r]

                Nathan walked through the hall leading to the cryochamber.  The bay door was closed, and he pulled out his IMC-issued knife that was beat to hell.  The blade was dull, and overuse left the curve dotted in knocks.  He knelt down to the door’s latch, and shoved his knife between the lever and the frame, prying it upwards with a swift tug.  
“That’s ‘bout as much use you’re gettin’ out of that thing.”  A man snickered.  
                And Liera knew who it was.  
_“Barker…?”_  
                Nathan pulled the door, and sent it into the ceiling.  
“It’s more for luck than slitting throats, not that it hasn’t.”  
                The same 8 pods Liera and Danse stumbled upon lay in their rows.  Even though they were 28 years younger, they were still chilled to the core.  
“Look, man. I know you’re real determined to find your kid and all...But you ain’t pay me enough to go poking around a bunch of frozen dead people.”  Barker grimaced.  
                He was younger, too.  His hair hadn’t been salted with greys, and his face was smoother.  
“All bark, no bite, huh?  That why they call you Barker?”  
“Shut up and keep your head down.  Damn cryosleep…Gives me the creeps.”  
                Nathan snickered, “There won’t be a need for it after the rest of Garrison’s precious circle wakes up.”  
“You can stop talkin’ right now.  Less you tell me?  The better.”  
“You’re not as dumb as they say you are.”  
                A picture of a Titan popped up on Nathan’s HUD.  
“Engaging Follow Mode.”  
“What? Atlas, no, you can’t-“  
“Unable to follow Pilot.  Redirecting course.”  
“Ugh…” Nathan sighed, “Guard mode, Atlas. _Guard.  Mode._ ”  
“Engaging Guard Mode.”  
                His visor went black as he facepalmed, “Maybe one day, these Titans won’t be so…I don’t know, robotic.”  
“You want the 20-foot battlemech to be less robotic?”  Barker tapped away on the terminal, looking over his shoulder.  
“Just…find it.  All these windows are frosted over.”  
                Barker rolled his eyes, and glued his face back to the screen.  
“Pod C7.  Down the hall near the end.”  
                Nathan’s head turned, and he traced the numbers on the floor.  He paused at his mark, and knocked his knuckles against the glass, “Open her up.”  
                The same alarms Liera heard blared, crisper and less damaged.  
**“Manual override initiated.  Cryogenic stasis suspended.”  
**                 Barker walked to his side, “That him?”  
                The frost started to fade, and an outline of a woman holding a child melted through.  
“Yeah.  That’s him, alright…”  
“You didn’t say he was a _baby._ ”  
“Does it matter?”  
                Barker hacked and spit, “Never flew with a baby onboard.  Not sure how he’s gonna fair out.”  
“…He’s frozen.  I’m ‘not sure’ how much worse it can get.”  
“Yeah, yeah, yeah…”  Barker sighed, “So…How long you think till Garrison figures out you ran?”  
“Not long.  We’re going to put his little pet back to sleep once I get Shaun.”  
“Thaw ‘em out, snatch and grab.  Classy…Who is she, anyway?”  
                There was a pause, only lightened by Nathan’s hand around the manual release.  
“My wife.”  
                The doors’ hydraulics screamed, and metal latches came undone around the cryopod’s case.  
                His son cried in Nora’s arms.  She took her first breath, nearly dropping the baby.  Nathan reached out, catching him as if he was prepared for it.  He quickly stepped back, ripping him from her arms.  
                She looked scared, confused – angry.  
“Nathan…You’re alive.”  
“Yeah.”  
“Is it over?  Are we okay?”  
                Nathan nodded to Barker, “Hold him for a sec.”  
“Ugh…Okay, shhh….SHHHH.  Shit, you’re a cold little baby…”  
                Nora took a step, and Nathan barred her with his forearm.  
“ _You_ can’t leave yet.”  
                Her brows furrowed, “What do you mean ‘I can’t leave yet?’  My family _built_ this Vault.”  
“They can’t help you this time, Nora.”  He gave her a forceful shove, and pulled the lever.  
                She tried to get out before the cryopod shut, but froze when Nathan’s gun ripped out of its holster.  Its sights were aimed straight between her eyes.  
                Her face folded in anger and her hands balled in to fists.  
“That’s what I thought.” He pulled his pistol back, and talked to her through the closed pod, “See, I couldn’t figure out how the satellites reverted back to Crius-3.  Evelyn and I made sure Angel City stayed far off the IMC’s radar.  And then you came along for our…discussion.  One look at the security cameras you so naively forgot about, and I had my answers.”  
                Nathan’s face pushed closer to the glass panel, “How surprised was I when I found out you and Garrison were working together.  You wanted this war.  He wanted the Frontier.  Well guess what?  You got the war.  Thanks to your sister, he _didn’t_ get the Frontier…and he’s not getting Shaun, either.”  
                Nora beat on the inside of the chamber, “Where is my father?! Where is Evelyn?!  LET ME OUT!”  
“Eric’s still asleep.  And Evelyn? She’s…she’s dead _._ ”  
                Her fists slid down the glass, a whining squeal released from the side of her palms.  
“…Dead?”  
“It’s been 182 years, Nora.  Welcome to the future. I won’t be so nice the next time you wake up.”  
                She roared, beating against the inside of the pod, “I’m awake _now,_ you son of a bitch!”  
                Barker grumbled under his breath, rocking Shaun in one arm and resting his other palm on the terminal’s keyboard.  
“No…” Nathan gave him a nod, and turned back to Nora, “…You’re not.”  
**“Cryogenic sequence reinitialized.”**  
“Nathan!” She punched the glass until her knuckles bled, “NATHAN!”  
                Her screams faded into silence, her gasps for air frozen over.  
“That never happened.” Nathan mumbled.  
“Sure, sure…But telling her Evelyn’s dead?  Really?”  
“She might as well be.  Let it go.”  
                Shaun stopped crying as soon as Nathan took him in his arms.  
“Hey there, little guy…Nice to meet you.”  
                The baby’s hand curled around his finger, kicking his feet and giving him a gargled laugh.  
“Gonna have a hard time explaining this one.” Barker removed a flask from his jacket, and took large gulps of what Liera knew was moonshine.  
“I’m keeping my son far away from the IMC and this hellhole.”  Nathan tickled Shaun’s stomach, “He’s going to grow up under a new name, with a new family.  Garrison won’t ever be able to find him.”  
                Barker almost had his flask returned to his inner pocket, but paused and took it back out, “We’re just gonna dump your kid?”  
“No.  I’ve already vetted a woman in Angel City.  Widowed, infertile, wants to raise a child.  We just have to deliver him to her.”  
“Right, because planting him in one of the Militia’s strongholds is the safer option.”  
“With Harmony at their backs, the Militia has defended Crius-3 for damn near two centuries.”  
                Barker tipped his flask at the ceiling, and frowned when it came up empty, “Fair point…I’ll have my buddies in Mythos alter our flight records when we get back.  Don’t think our trip would be considered official IMC business by good ol’ Mac.”  
“Just like that, eh?”  
                Barker winked at him, raising his flask in a salute, “Just like that.”

 

***

 

                Liera’s hands shook.  Her shoulders tensed up to her ears.  She leaned her forearm on one of the cryopods, buckling over as she dry-heaved, facing away from him.  
_“How does she have anything left to upheave?”_  
                Danse jogged to her side, patting her back through her armor and holding her arm, “We need you get you back up.”  
                Liera gasped for air, wiping the saliva from her mouth, drying her face of sweat.  All she could do was shake her head no.  
“I…I think I know where Nora’s son is…”  
                Her back slid against the cryopod behind her until she came to a stop.  She sat near a puddle, balancing her elbows on her knees and cupping her face.  
“What? How?”  
“Nathan said…Angel City was still under control of the Militia…And Barker was still IMC…” Liera’s breathing stuttered, “But Angel City fell to IMC control 28 years ago…”  
“So Shaun isn’t a baby anymore, then?”  
“No.  He’d be pushing 30, and somewhere between 25 and 26 during the Demeter Campaign.  I don’t think he’s ‘Shaun’ anymore, either…” Her eyes squeezed shut, and she mouthed something barely over a whisper, “Nathan opened fire on a Militia Rifle Battalion.  Said his son’s squad wasn’t in formation.  Said he shot at him… EV…Which Battalions served in the Battle of Troy?”  
“One moment.”  
                The data on her wrist’s screen scrolled and fluttered as EV combed through it.  
“Preston told me a ship came through the Commonwealth 28 years ago.”  Danse sat next to her, “I wonder if it was them…”  
                Liera hooked her chin on her shoulder, “He said what?”  
“He told me a ship unlike anything anyone’s ever seen was sighted 28 years ago by his former General.”  
                She closed her eyes, “Had to be them.  Barker is the best Pilot the Frontier has ever had.  Don’t know too many others who could pull off a flight like that…”  
“Pilot, search results confirm that the support unit deployed under Marauder Corps jurisdiction during the Battle of Troy was the 41 st Militia Rifle Battalion.”  
                A small whimper left her mouth, “Cross reference list of deployed with Angel City, Crius-3 place of origin…Single mother…Ages 25-26…”  
“…Pilot-“  
“How many results?”  
                EV didn’t answer.  
“How many results?!” She repeated, her voice cracking.  
                The room was reduced to the dripping of leaky tiles in the ceiling.  She hugged herself, and rocked on her heels, “Please no…please no…”  
                Liera was breaking.   
“One.”  
                And then she broke.  
“R3 Rifleman, Jack Cooper.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Special thanks to MjrGenMatt** for being the best beta I've ever had and helping me get this chapter just right. Cheers to a long-lasting partner/friendship and lots of "MOVING THE PAYLOAD!"
> 
> ;D
> 
>  **Author's Note:**  
>  Since it's creation in March, a lot of readers have asked me why Jack and BT's story was included in this fic. Hopefully this chapter answers that question better than the vague responses I've previously delivered. This twist was premeditated, and I didn't want to spoil anything. I'd love to hear what you think on the matter. <3
> 
>  **Behind the Scenes:**  
>  Check out [Chapter 44](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10296845/chapters/29413410) of _"The Archive,"_ for more screenshots and commentary!


	27. Blood and Rust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Day 4 on Planet Typhon._  
>  _BT says I’m his Acting Pilot. Whether I’m ready or not, I have to make this work, or we’re dead._  
>  _Our only chance of survival is to uphold dad's original mission. That means rendezvousing with Major Anderson._  
>  _Another 60 klicks to go..."_  
>  -Jack Cooper's Logbook

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **_Archive Quick Reference:_**  
>   
>     
>  **Pilot:** Liam Scott Miller, “Wrangler”  
>  **Paired Titan:** AJ-4517, “Mustang”  
>  **Preferred Loadout:** Northstar (Low defense, high mobility)
> 
>  **Pilot:** Akane Mayumi, “Kiyo”  
>  **Paired Titan:** URI-0241, “Uriel”  
>  **Preferred Loadout:** Ronin (Low defense, high mobility)
> 
>  **Pilot:** Sage Kimbra Talon, “Anubis”  
>  **Paired Titan:** ICE-0195, “Coldheart”  
>  **Preferred Loadout:** Scorch (High defense, slow speed)
> 
>  **Pilot:** Christopher Orsen Grenier, “Gremlin”  
>  **Paired Titan:** GZ-3928, “Gizmo”  
>  **Preferred Loadout:** Ion (Balanced defense and speed)  
>   
>  **For more information on these Titans and abilities,** you can watch this [ 3 minute Titan Briefing on YouTube, ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6EoIbv_CWsk)  
>  or read the bullets on [Chapter 29](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10296845/chapters/23738157) of _"The Archive."_  
>   
>  **VTOL Hover:** Vertical take-off/landing hover.  
>   
>  **The Icepick:** A modified Data Knife that increases the speed in which one can hack Spectres and turret control panels. Developed by Cheng "Bish" Lorck.  
>   
>  **Zone 18:** Inside an old IMC base hidden in the vast wilderness of the Dakota System, advanced IMC robotics research continued, despite the destruction of Hammond Robotics' corporate headquarters on the Frontier. Until recently, the Militia knew the region only as the decommissioned "Zone 18", the way it was labeled on stolen IMC maps provided by Barker.  
> 

* * *

**PART I: Freedom Cry**

* * *

* * *

                eiled light glinted off BT’s chaingun, signaling to the native lands of Typhon that they were being invaded.  It passed through the trees, littering the earth with black shapes with leaves for edges.  The shadows it cast darkened in deep-seeded tire tracks; footprints left by their prey.  
_“Big treads.  Heavy trucks.  Armored.  They come through here a lot.”_  
                Jack glared at guardrails lined with yellow and black lines, warning against an upcoming sharp turn.  
                Everything was far too established.  
_“They’ve been here for a while…”_  
                They’d taken this planet in silence.  Stayed under the radar.  And when the Militia came, they were ready.  
“Pilot, the IMC will continue to search for us.  Our only chance of survival is to rendezvous with Major Anderson 60 klicks from our current location.”  
                Jack swiped his nose and rubbed his shoulder.  
“Hopefully we make it there in one piece…”  
                Winging it had never been his first choice when dealing with tactical operations.  He always had a superior to point where he needed to shoot.  He wasn’t confident in flying blind.  
“We will have to improvise and adapt if we wish to survive.”  
                BT reminded him that _nothing_ about this op had him feeling confident.  
“Right.”  
                The path they followed snaked along a shallow inlet, flowing towards the crash site they left behind. It gave life to lush vegetation, framed by rocky ledges covered with moss and vines.  
                 The edges of BT's panels were like barriers between worlds; seams where one ended and another began.  A splintered reality, akin to the one they lived in now.  
**_“This is the real thing, son…”_** _  
_ Jack’s mind and soul were numbed only by the aching in his muscles. The journey had taken a very _real_ toll.  
                He needed something to bring him forward.  A dose of normalcy, something to cling on to _prove_ this was real, that this was happening.  More than that, he needed something that seemed impossible to have.  
                His family.  
                Tai.  Liera.  
                Something else without a name.  
                The feeling of belonging he found within the Militia as a whole, with his brothers and sisters in arms that fought shoulder to shoulder against enemies designed to kill hundreds like them with a flick of the wrist.  
                Troy O’Connor.  Mike Nelson.  The two men he’d been through hell and back with since Basic.  That Lasky kid who revered him like a god.  
                His friends.  
                Missing in action.  Dead.  He wasn’t sure.  
                He squeezed his eyes shut.  
_“Stop thinking about it.”  
_                 The mute switch in his head was worn, and its function well-practiced.  
**“This is…Alpha Company...3-2…Marauder Corps…”  
**                 A crackle waned and faded.  He jumped from the sudden interruption of silence.  
“… _Alpha_ Company?”  
                The fireteam of Marauders that was now without a Captain.  
                Liera’s friends.  
“Yes.  I believe that was Pilot Miller.  Cleaning up transmission.”  
                As the trail began to narrow, the trees grew barren like a gradient from life to death.  A fortress sat atop a towering mountain in an endless spiral of steel and cement, crowned with a flaming exhaust stream that mixed poisonous gas with the clouds.  A massive storm drain was carved underneath, spewing waste from its vents; brown and red like _blood_ and _rust_.  
**“We’re taking a beating down here!  Any Militia forces, please assist!”  
                ** Pillars of smoke marked the transmission source, and a loud burst rattled the ground.  
“That’s definitely Liam…”  
                Jack’s hands cupped around the ends of his armrests and he straightened himself.  BT’s braces armed his limbs.  They wordlessly prepared themselves to enter the fray, unwilling to let the distress call go unanswered.  
                They were greeted by a chasm; land torn asunder by a flaming carrier ship, having left flattened wildlife and patches of fire in its wake.  A labyrinth of sludge rolled through rocky passages under a haze of peat and ember.  It pooled at the bottom of a trench, clear-cut in the mountainous terrain. Each side bordered a ramp leading up to the facility’s belly.  
                The stretch of road was dotted with guard posts and receiving depots. Trucks and other heavy machinery rested between them.  
                They’d found the wolves’ den, and a battlefield awaited.  
                A trio of familiar Titans were outnumbered, holding an invisible line with their backs against the steep cliff that served as Jack’s vantage point.  
“Enemy Titanfall detected.”  
                Panic fought with his resolve, but even he knew this wasn’t the time to freeze up.  He had to help them, and the undeniable M-COR brandings on their Titans were enough for him to ignore his fear.  
“Let’s go, BT.”  
                He would not let another Marauder die.  
“Engaging hostiles.”  
                BT’s chassis broke through branches hanging high above the ground, their splintered ends snapping back and scraping the metal.  His thrusters pushed them over the cliff, and Jack’s stomach rose to his throat.  Time seemed to crawl as the conflict drew nearer.  
                Jack had seen war up close.  He’d been below the feet of Titans as they fought, praying he wouldn’t be their next victim.  He thought he’d feel safer being _in_ one the next time he found himself engaging in combat.  
                He didn’t.  The horrors weren’t lessened by the cockpit doors that shielded him…  
                Now, he just had a better view.  
                The ground came first.  BT’s hand disappeared into the mixture of sludge and mud, and he pushed himself to his feet. His chaingun swung to his front.  
                The landing shook Jack, and he found himself in a daze like when his lifeboat impaled Typhon itself.  And just like then, the IMC wasted no time bringing him into the fray.  
**“We’ve got a friendly Vanguard-class Titan!”** Sage’s picture popped up on his screen, her heart-warming voice a momentary distraction.  
                An IMC Brute jumped, it’s VTOL Hover keeping it suspended above the combat zone.  BT peppered the enemy cockpit with shells larger than his fingers, dotting it with bright flares of contact.  
                The Brute’s vents exhausted its injury in the form of flames, attempting to recover.  Jack released a fatal rocket barrage, and the Brute exploded with a loud crack.  Parts of it clanked against BT as he reloaded his weapon.  
“Enemy Titan down.”  
                They crouched behind a boulder just big enough to cover them.  
**“Is that BT?!”** Chris called from his cockpit, his Ion leading a shot with her Splitter Rifle.  
                Akane flanked a group with her Ronin, his broadsword swiping at the legs of an enemy, **“Good to see you, Captain.  We could use some help.”  
**                 Footsteps clanked overhead.  Jack arched his neck at the top hatch, ready to shoot.  
“Friendly Pilot on the hull.”  
                Liam waved at the camera mounted on BT’s shoulder, **“Remind me to never poke fun at you for using that old Expedition loadout again, boss man.”  
                ** They didn’t know.  How could they?  
“Should we…tell them?”  
                BT opened a vortex shield, sending enemy fire back at the infantry who delivered it.  
“Negative.”  
                They side-stepped a quad-rocket barrage, nearly colliding with Sage’s Scorch Titan.  
                A fresh IMC carrier shook the ground with its engines as it soared overhead, releasing 5 pops in its jet stream.  One by one, a new enemy Titan landed, their domes covering them as their hubs lit up.  
                They barred the entrance to the Reclamation Facility.       
**“How we doin’ this, Cap?”** Chris asked.  
                The domes around the enemy Titans dissipated.  They took their guns off their backs, staring Jack and the Marauders down.  
  **“Vanguard-class Titans spotted.  Moving to engage.”** One of them threatened.  
                Jack flexed his fingers around BT’s trigger-decorated handles.  
**“Captain?”** Sage sounded worried.  
                He wasn’t their Captain, but he didn’t need to be to know his new comrades had to focus on the shit odds they now faced rather than the fact that Tai Lastimosa was KIA.  
“Pilot Miller on ground support,” BT answered for him, “Pilot Talon will take point while Pilot Grenier and I hold the flanks.  Pilot Mayumi, you are cleared to roam.”  
                Jack rendered a long, drawn out breath as the team charged.  The sadness and despair of their current situation was pushed aside by a tinge of excitement.  
                He was fighting alongside the Marauders.  
                The emergency button of the Militia.  The best of the best, most of which he’d ranked higher than in his Gauntlet run.  And even so, this was an opportunity.  An honor.  One bestowed by his father.  
                And he wasn’t prepared to let them down…  
                Especially not Tai.

 

…

 

  
                Sage and her Scorch ran headfirst into the conflict, firing thermite barrels into the front lines before sparking them ablaze.  The incendiary traps formed a barrier between the Militia and the enemy, preventing the IMC’s approach.  
                Jack ejected BT’s acolyte pods and painted the closest Titan with markers.  The Brute ducked behind a guard post, and BT dashed to the right.  Jack aimed their tracking missiles upwards, sending the winding rockets high above before arching down below.  
“Target hit.  Nice shooting, Pilot.”  
                There was almost a smile in his compliment.  
**“He’s suppressed.  Moving in for the kill.”  
**                 Akane flanked the enemy, Broadsword drawn, moving much quicker than the others were able.  The Brute took to the sky, its jets firing a blue stream below its slim chassis.  She fired at it with her Ronin’s Leadwall shotgun, but the IMC Pilot swayed and dodged her bullet spray with ease.  
**“Damn it!  Grenier?”  
“Way ahead of you.”**  
                Chris shot at the flying Titan with targeting lasers, and Jack helped him with his locked-on acolyte missiles.  
**“Watch your flank!”** Liam warned, a laser shot coming just from out of Jack’s view.  
                BT’s chaingun fired at the Brute and remained focused while Jack yanked him to the right, avoiding a shot taken by a Sniper Titan.  
**“This Brute’s lucky I don’t have AJ,”** Liam grunted, reloading his Anti-Titan Charge Rifle, **“Woulda’ shot him right outta’ the sky.”**  
**“We know, Miller, we know.”** Sage and her Scorch dashed in front of them with a thermal shield, melting incoming fire from a squad of scattering Grunts.  
**“Sniper Titan marked at 12 o’clock,”** Liam warned, a new red dot flashing on Jack’s HUD, **“Shit, Talon! Pull back!”  
**                 A blue particle shield sprang up at the end of the corridor, shielding the Sniper and Tone behind it.  
**“Amped shots at the choke are gonna be a problem.”  
“Miller, think you can distract the Sniper?”  ** Akane asked.  
**“What?”** Chris shouted as he dodged the Brute, **“That’s suicide!”  
“I’m on it!”  
“Miller, don’t-“  
**                 A notification flashed, “Friendly Pilot has left the hull,” and Liam took to the walls.  
**“Damn it.”  
**                 Liam let his charged laser loose, taking to a guard post’s roof and sliding to cover.  
“BT, let’s cover him.”  
                Jack switched targets, letting Chris focus on the near-death Brute.  
“Affirmative.”  
**“They’ve got me pinned down!”** Sage and ICE peaked a corner.  
                They quickly withdrew back behind a building that lost a chunk of cement from an amplified Sniper round.  
                The Marauders were losing the ground they’d gained.  
_“That Sniper needs to go…”_  
                Jack and BT ran to the side of the building, leaving Sage defenseless.  
**“Captain?!”** She screeched.  
                A row of towers covered their left.  The side of a cliff marked their right.  They were in the right lane of the battlefield, the Sniper and Tone combo still locking down the middle.  
                Liam was up ahead, and jumped from one side of the corridor to the other.  He yelled, slamming his chest against the smooth surface of another rooftop, his hands clawing for purchase.  
**“BT, TURN AROUND-”  
                ** Rapid fire burned into the guard tower, blocking the rest of his transmission with splintering debris.  The enemy rounded the corner, large and hulking.  A smaller particle shield was centered at the barrel of its Predator Cannon, smoke spiraling from where the shots heated the metal red.  
“Enemy Legion spotted.” BT announced, “We are outnumbered.”  
                Exiting the lane meant getting sniped into oblivion.  Remaining where he was, face to face with a Legion and a cannon that could unleash more rounds per second than Jack cared to count, he realized he’d made a mistake.  
                An explosion from behind rippled the waste drainage that coated the ground.  Splashes of the brown liquid wiped the rust off the enemy’s feet.  
**“Right behind you, Captain!”** Grenier called, having eliminated the flying Brute, **“I’ve got you covered!”  
“Mayumi, I’m on the Sniper-“ ** Liam’s voice was ragged, as if rodeoing an enemy Titan was exhausting or something, **“Whatever you’re gonna do, you need to do it _now_!”  
**                 The Legion’s cannon began to spin,  and BT’s vortex shield caught the first of the focused fire before the rippling wave turned orange.  
“Vortex Shield at 20%,” BT warned.  
                The bullets turned sharply, taking aim at the enemy.  They fired, and the Legion’s shield flickered as each of them hit.  
**“Firing Zero Trip-Wire!”** Chris called out.  
Three small devices arched from overhead, two landing perfectly on either side of the corridor while one landed in the middle.  An orange line connected them, and they detonated as the Legion carelessly stepped through it.  
**“Gun Shield can’t block _that_ , HAH!”  
“Shut your trap, Grenier!” **Liam scolded. **  
**                 The Legion began to retreat, but it’s rotary cannon spun again.  BT’s shield wasn’t recharged.  They were defenseless.  
**“To the left, Cap!  We’re gonna have to risk it!”  
**                 Grenier, still at the end of the lane, dashed out of sight.  BT slipped between the gaps of the outposts, now challenged with the Tone and the bucking Sniper behind it.  
“Tone Sonar locked.  Taking evasive action.”  
                Smoke dispersed around them, and an electric current rippled through.  The IMC Tone fired a cluster of misguided rockets, destroying a guard tower instead of inflicting harm.  
                Crunching metal ached.  Sparks flew from the other side of the cloud.  A pop of blue erupted, and a chunk of Titan plating rolled out of the cloud, skittering down the ramp before hitting BT’s feet with a dull “clank.”  
                He studied it momentarily, and found an IMC brand painted on the side.  
**“Sniper down.”** The danger in Akane’s voice made Jack’s skin crawl.  
_“Couldn’t ever figure out how she was so stealthy with a TITAN.”_  
                Sage jumped ahead of Chris and Jack, and the three of them pushed the middle choke together.  Jack peaked around her Scorch just long enough to see Akane rip her sword out of the Sniper’s chassis.  Never missing a beat, she launched an arc wave at the Tone.  
**“Never saw you miss with one of those.”**  
**“I wasn’t aiming for the _Titan_ , Miller...”  
                **Even though the Tone had taken cover, Akane’s discharged, trailing wall of electricity collided with the abandoned particle shield.  It disappeared, and the lane was clear.  
**“They’re spreading out…”** She seemed suspicious.  
Chris’s Ion looked around, **“Weren’t there 5 when they landed?”**  
                A hollowed burst shook the trees in the distance, and a whistling, plummeting sound came from above. A large shell collided with the ramp just in front of Sage, and the three of them scattered.  
**“There’s a Mortar Titan somewhere!”** She growled. **  
“Leave it to me!”** Liam bounced from one roof to another, just barely dodging a stream of bullets from the Legion Titan.  
**“Enough with your lone-ranger Homestead bullshit, Miller!”** Chris yelled.  
                Liam double-jumped up and over the left cliff of the trench and disappeared in the brush. **  
“They took AJ from me,”** His voice was pained as it came through, **“They can stick it where the-“  
                ** A charged shot shook the communications channel, and an explosion muted his feed.  
**“Miller?!”**  
**“Focus on what you’re doing, Grenier!”** Akane yelled, taking a hit to the leg as she tried to regroup with the rest of them.  
_“Shit.”  
_                 Sage broke formation and sprinted to her side, covering her Ronin while he recovered.  
**“Moving quick is not going to save you.”** The Legion taunted through its loudspeaker.  
                A mortar shell hit next to them, sending shrapnel into Sage’s Scorch.  
**“Containing and destroying enemy infantry.”**   ICE pulled ahead, slow in his movements, leaving the others behind. **  
** “What are they _doing_?!” Jack shouted.  
“Previously observed behaviors indicate that Pilot Talon is activating ICE’s Flame Core.”  
                The irony of her Titan’s service tag and his abilities was never lost upon him.  
**“Go to Hell!”**   Sage roared as ICE’s fists raised above his shoulders before slamming down, sending a wave of fire along the corridor’s path.  
                She launched two thermite barrels into the inferno, and they spread the trap as they exploded on impact.  
**“NICE ONE, TALON!”** Chris yelled, cutting off the Tone that tried to flee through a space in the left set of buildings, **“And just where do you think you’re going?”  
**                 One charged laser shot reduced the IMC Titan to a heap of salvage.  
**“Woo! 5 Titans for the Marauders!”**  
**“Make that 6.”**   Liam sneered, another fiery burst echoing in the distance, **“Need some help with evac, they’ve got Spectres up here!”**  
**“You got it! Marking your HUD for interception!”  
“Solid copy, Grenier.  En route to rendezvous.”  
**                 Chris broke from the group, and took off towards Liam’s last mark.  
**“Has anyone heard from the Captain yet?”** Akane asked, her Ronin blocking shots from the Legion with his sword.  
**“Negative.  BT, what’s going on?”** Sage held up her thermal shield to give her cover.  
“Radio silence recommended.  Engaging with Legion.” BT answered.  
                A notification scrolled across the top of Jack’s HUD.  
“Burst Core ready.”  
                Jack shook his head, irritated at the sweat building up under his helmet’s padding, “Burst Core?”  
“This ability fires arc rounds to tear a Titan’s shields down and increase damage output.  It may give us a tactical advantage.”  
                He snickered, “I think somebody’s in _love_.”  
“A human’s concept of love requires admiration, attraction, devotion, and respect.  Conclusion: I am 50% in love.”  
“And I am 100% ready to put this asshole down.”  
                They placed themselves behind the distracted Legion, still focused on Sage and Akane.  His negligence would be his downfall.  
                Jack pulled the lever, and BT’s chaingun sizzled with blue electricity.  
“Burst Core: Activated.”  
                His magazine dumped into the reinforced IMC chassis.  The bullets were charged; amped like when fired through a friendly particle wall.  The Legion’s battery well chipped away, the door popping off the hinges and spiraling down.  
                The ghostly, green light became his new target.  
                There weren’t any IMC threats after that.

 

…

 

                Even as the dust settled, danger yet loomed.  It came as alarms echoing from the bowels of the Reclamation Facility.  Crisp, crackling fires sizzled mute as they met the waste near the bottom of the entrance ramp.  It was painted on the faces of the downtrodden Marauders, who had regrouped and remained silent.  
                Chris had his hands on his hips, looking at his feet.  Liam sat on the leg of AJ’s burnt chassis, her core in one hand, his helmet in the other.  Akane worked on repairing URI’s leg, angry and glaring with a manual balanced on her knee.  
                And Sage…  
                She walked towards BT, slowly unbuckling her helmet to reveal a dirt-smudged face that still filled Jack with completeness every time he saw it.  
                He stepped out of the cockpit, his heart heavier than Tai’s Kevlar vest that protected it.  His Pilot-outfitted boots made a growingly familiar crunch as he met her in the middle.  
                He expected a hug.  A smile.  A kiss on the side of his helmet for the gratefulness of being reunited.  She stopped just short of him, and broke into a salute.  
“Thanks for the assist, sir.  We’ll secure this area.  Glad to see you up and…”  
                Her eyes dropped to Jack’s arm.  Her eyebrows pinched, and she took a sharp breath.  Her shaky hand reached out, her thumb tracing the red and black ink needled on his skin.  
                His breathing shook.  Sweat dropped from his brow, down to his lip.  He couldn’t speak.  Couldn’t say it.  
“…Jack?”  She whimpered, both happy and sad all at once.  
                His fingers curled into a fist, and his name on her lips broke his steely resolve.  It was as if she could see through his visor, or smell the pain that echoed at her revelation.  
 “…They got him, Sage.” Jack pushed a hot breath through his nose.  
                It’s all he could muster, all he could get through the barricade of grit teeth and clenched jaw muscles.  Her hands found their way to the magnetic ring under his chin, and she clicked the release.  His helmet was lifted from his head, and he couldn’t bring himself to look at her.  
“But you…you made it.”  The joy that pushed her cheeks to the rim of her eyes confused him.  
“He died saving me.”  
                He bit back a shout, feeling the need to clarify how Tai’s blood stained his hands and everything he wore.  He wanted her to yell, to parrot the self-deprecation that came in screams from the darkest corners of his consciousness.  
“Then it wasn’t for nothing…” She shuddered, her words coming between bursts of inhales and choked back tears.  
                Her helmet bounced off the marred surface of Typhon as it left her hands.  She threw her arms around his neck, and his own found the curves of her waist.  
                Having Sage felt good, it felt _right._  
                Something to bring him forward.  
                This was real.  _She_ , was real.  Another person to protect amidst the evil tucked away in the IMC’s fortified castle in the mountains.  
                Jack’s eyes peeled open, looking at the others from over her shoulder.  
“Oh shit, man…” Chris squeezed his head, “They got Cap…fuck, man.  Shit…Fuck-“  
“Pull it together, Grenier.” Akane hissed, pointing her wrench at him, “You can’t fall apart.  Not here.  Not now.”  
                The coldness in her order snuffed the warmth from Jack’s chest.  
                Chris threw his hands out to his sides, “First it was Ryan, then they sent Liera to EARTH…now Tai?!”  
“None of that matters, son.” Liam butted in, “Only thing that does is that we get the rest of those damn AOD turrets offline before Command shows up.”  
“THEY’RE NOT COMING FOR US!  I thought maybe losing AJ would-“  
                Liam’s neck cranked towards his comrade, and he pulled at Chris’s shemagh with one, over-sized arm, “Better think twice before finishin’ that sentence, boy.”  
“The fuck man?!”  
“Easy, easy,” Sage tried to squeeze between them, but Liam shoved her off.  
“Stay outta’ this, Talon.”  
“ENOUGH!” Jack screeched.  
                He swallowed hard, and faced the bickering group.  
“Command is _coming._   But if you guys don’t get your acts together, you won’t be alive long enough to see it happen!”  
                He wasn’t sure if he believed it himself, but for their sakes, he had to.  He had to keep them together.  Had to keep _himself_ together.  
“I need to know what’s going on.  What _is_ Special Operation 217?”  
                The group exchanged looks, seemingly unsure how to answer.  
“Pilot, Special Operation 217 is a classified operation only to be discussed with deployed affiliates.” BT announced through his speaker.  
                Jack turned to him, and his brows pinched, “Oh, I…”  
                Chris marched to BT, “Are you telling me Captain Lastimosa was deployed on a spec ops other than Operation: Broadsword?”  
“I cannot answer that question, Pilot Grenier.”  
“BT-7274,” GZ, Chris’s Titan, addressed him directly, “If Captain Lastimosa was killed in action, would that not mean there are no further deployed affiliates to carry on this Special Operation?”  
“Negative.  Pilot Lastimosa transferred all operating permissions to Pilot Cooper.  All I am able to share is that we must rendezvous with Major Anderson.”  
                Sage perked up, “You’ve heard from him?”  
“No…Have you?” Jack asked.  
“Nope.” Liam growled, “We lost contact with him shortly after we crash-landed.  Only orders we have now are to meet up with Captain Cole at the coordinates he relayed over the radio.”  
“And to get the AOD offline so our ships can pull in.” Chris sighed, “Hopefully.”  
“How have you guys been taking down the turrets?”  
                Chris rolled his eyes, “We stuck C4 on them.”  
“Real funny.”  
“Grenier’s been hacking into them with the Icepick.  Don’t know how or why he has that tech built into Giz over there, but I ain’t gonna look a gift horse in the mouth.” Liam stretched, “Cloaked AOD…Goddamn Apex scumbags only chasin’ a paycheck…”  
“Can’t believe that trick worked.” Chris ran a hand down his face, “We should’ve… _I_ should’ve…”  
“It’s not your fault.” Akane cut him off, “It’s not anyone’s fault but the IMC and the mercenaries they hired.”  
“You’d know a thing or two about mercs, wouldn’t you?” Liam snickered.  
“Look, Miller, I know you’re upset, but…can you just,” Jack sighed, “Can you just _not_ pick fights with everyone right now?”  
“You might be wearin’ your daddy’s uniform, but you don’t get to tell me what to do.”  
“I’m _telling you_ , you’re being unreasonable.”  
                Liam walked towards him, finger pointed, “I have half a mind to Pilot BT myself.  That cockpit deserves a qualified Pilot, and you ain’t it.”  
                His fingers pinched around the Velcro strip across his vest that read, “LASTIMOSA.”  
                Jack cupped Liam’s wrist, and he held it firm.  
“Over my cold fucking corpse.”  
                Liam paused.  He was taller than Jack.  Probably had 100 pounds more muscle, too.  But he wasn’t going to defile Tai’s last wish.  
“BT’s saved my ass more times than I have fingers.  If you’re gonna be his Pilot, you better take care of him.”  
                Tai’s words echoed in his request.  
“I will.”  He tossed Liam’s hand away, and frowned at the core dangling on his belt, “Sorry about AJ.”  
“She’ll be fine.” Liam spit on the ground, “Just gotta get her a new chassis.  Maybe an upgraded Vanguard III like EV.”  
“We need to make it off this shithole planet alive, first…” Chris snickered, “Sooo…You gonna spill the beans, or what?”  
“Look, even if I thought BT would let me break protocol, _I_ don’t even know what Special Operation 217 is…”  
                A collective sigh ripped through the group, and Liam shook his head.  
“BT probably doesn’t even know…No point in pressin’ this on.  He tell you anything ‘bout Broadsword?”  
“We didn’t exactly have time…”  
“Grenier, if he’s linked with BT, he’s got SRS clearance.  Catch him up.”  
“Who put _you_ in charge?”  
“Grenier.” Sage barked.  
“Okay, okay…”  He stretched his fingers, and cleared his throat, “See, a year and a half ago, Alpha Company was sent to help Barker and his pals during Operation: Grizzly, a salvage op based in a location designated as the ‘Swamplands.’  Sketchy place on the edge of Sector Bravo-217.  Found some Pre-History ruins there, and intel on the thing we’re chasing now.  6 months of deep reconnaissance later, we found Planet Typhon.”  
“We didn’t _find_ Typhon.” Sage interrupted, “We received anonymous _intelligence_ about Typhon.”  
“ANYWAY,” Chris sneered, “We mapped a bunch of facilities with covert satellites but couldn’t really tell what they were.  Whoever our buddy in the IMC was told us to focus on a facility held up not far from where we are.  Problem is, we couldn’t find a proper insertion point.  So, they sent the Marauders down to scope out the place shortly _after_ they deployed your sister.”  
“The facility was labeled the ‘World Foundry.’  We couldn’t get close enough to see what exactly they’re doing in there, and Command didn’t want us hanging out here any longer than we had to.” Sage continued, “All moot points now, I suppose…”  
“Why is that?”  
“Command opted to blitz the whole damn place.”  Liam put his hands on his hips, “Somethin’ spooked ‘em.  Then Typhon’s moon blew up.  Now we’re here.”  
“You still have orders, don’t you?”  
“Yes.  To infiltrate the World Foundry.” Akane growled, “But my Company doesn’t agree that we should carry _out_ that mission.”  
“And like I explained multiple times,” Chris shot her a glare, “Without Command or Anderson to give us our next set of orders, Captain Cole’s all we got.”  
                Chris pulled a map from his pocket, and unfolded it on a rock.  It was decorated with gridlines and question marks, x’s and red circles.  
“A paper map?” Jack grinned, “That’s unlike you.”  
“You can burn a paper trail.  Digital map behind enemy lines? Not so much.”  
“Forgot how paranoid you are.”  
“Obviously, I had good reasons to be.”  
                His finger traced the shape of a river, barely identifiable on the spotty satellite images.  
“We’re here.” He tapped a cluster of buildings before continuing, “Based on Cole’s last relay, he should be…Here, hunkered down with survivors.  The only intel we have on him is that he’s at an IMC beacon at map grid 772-981 near some satellite array that could help us get in contact with HQ.  We figured we’d take down the turrets on our way.”  
“Originally, we thought to find Major Anderson,” Sage started, “ _This_ unknown facility was his last known position.  However, our pre-deployment scans showed mixed results…We don’t know what’s up there.”  
                The location she pointed to was high in the mountains, far away from the other facilities.  Deep in the jungle.  Perfect for operating on something that they didn’t want people to know about.  
“I heard some things.” Jack mumbled, tapping on the map, “They said ‘all that matters is that thing in the mountains goes online as scheduled.’ This place is definitely ‘in the mountains.’”  
“What thing?” Akane asked.  
“Don’t know.  Some Grunts mentioned it was bad for the Militia.  Overheard IMC radio chatter about something called the ‘Ark’ being transferred for recasting, though.”  
                The group paused and looked at him like he’d said something offensive.  
“Did you just say the _Ark_?” Chris choked.  
                Liam went pale.  Sage grew rigid.  Akane, as emotionless as she was, held a certain tension.  
“Anyone want to tell me what’s going on?”  
“At the Swamplands ruins, we got a lot of visual interference when we got close to them.  Maps went offline, communications were dark…but the confusion allowed us to intercept IMC relays, talking about the ‘Ark,’ and how they needed something _from_ those ruins to utilize it.”  Chris turned to Akane, “You think that’s why the satellites couldn’t get a read on the mountain complex?”  
“More than likely.  The two are obviously related, if what Cooper says is true.”  
                Jack crossed his arms, “Well, whatever it is, it must be a pretty big deal if we sent an entire fleet after it.”  
“Maybe Anderson is near that complex…it could be why he hasn’t reached out to us.  Maybe he can’t.  Maybe we should-“  
“We’re not going in there blind, Grenier.” Liam glowered, “That’s how we got into this mess in the first place.”  
“No.” Jack swiped his hand, “No, that’s not what we’re gonna do.  As for right now, we’re gonna plow through this Reclamation Facility, and you’re all going to help me save the soldiers trapped inside.”  
                He waited for Liam to assert himself again.  Expected the others to protest, to remind him that he wasn’t in charge and that he wasn’t actually a Pilot.  
“There are soldiers trapped inside?” Sage whispered.  
“Nelson and O’Connor.  Lasky.  The rest of my battalion…We got split up after Blisk and his team landed.  After they…”  
                He looked over his shoulder at BT.  It didn’t seem too long ago him and Tai came barreling through Typhon’s narrow passageways to save him.  
“We can’t delay our mission over a couple Riflemen.  We have more at stake here.” Akane’s eyes narrowed.  
“They aren’t just a ‘couple Riflemen.’” Jack growled, “Those are _our_ men in there.”  
“And they know what they signed up for.  We have turrets to take down.  Turrets that brought the _MCS James MacAllan_ and its entire fleet planetside.”  
“Tai responded to our call.  _He_ didn’t leave us for dead, and we were just a ‘couple Riflemen.’”  
“Yeah, and look how that ended for him.”  
                Jack’s fists balled at his side.  His upper lip curled, and his nostrils flared.  He wanted to bash her face against the rock and stain the map with her blood so they didn’t have a choice but to come with him.  
“Fine.” He turned, and flipped his helmet in his hands, “I’ll go by myself, then.”  
“HEY!”  Liam barked.  
                Jack stopped, and licked his lips before looking up at BT.  
_“Please step on him.”  
_                 He turned around, “What?”  
                Liam swallowed, and put his hands on his hips, “You said Troy’s in there?”  
“Heard Nelson come through a beached droppod radio.  He told everyone not to come here.  Warned everyone to stay away while he was being _shot_ at.” Jack bit the inside of his cheek, “Troy and Lasky were with him, unless they got separated.  Which, knowing Nelson, is doubtful.”  
                Liam turned to the others.  
“We’re Marauders.  We’re their last resort…” He frowned at AJ’s lifeless chassis, “We’re better than this.”  
                There was a long pause between the group.  Jack’s heart pulsed in his throat, ready to get moving and go save the remaining Militia forces that were hopefully still alive.  
“We may fight with steel, but we do not rust.”  
                Chris’s neck snapped towards Liam, surprised at his words.  
“For we are vessels, forged from stardust.”  Sage continued.  
                Jack had heard the Prayer of the Refugee before. Probably should have said it before he left his dad buried in a burial cairn.  
“Thus when you die, and your blood runs dry…”  Akane reluctantly recited the next line.  
“To the heavens we’ll aim,” Chris pumped an IMC shotgun in his hands, “Our freedom cry.”  
                It might not have been the direct answer he wanted.  But Liam was right.  
                They were better than the state Jack found them in.  
                And there was irony in how it took a Rifleman to remind them.

 

...

 

                The tunnel leading in was just barely wide enough for BT to fit through.  They led the expedition, ducking under a drainage pipe as his feet kicked sludge up on the walls.  A destroyed Titan chassis lay in a pile of broken, mechanical bones against a rust-stained wall.  Its paint was burned from its parts, unidentifiable after being rendered useless.  Frayed wires dangled above it, sending sparks down and defiling the corpse.  
“I am sorry for the loss of your former Pilot, BT.”  Akane’s Titan, URI, mumbled as they pressed on.  
“Thank you for your condolences.”  
“The late Captain Lastimosa assisted Pilot Talon in my construction.” ICE added, “I have fond memories of him stored in my Archive.”  
“As do I.” GZ looked up at a ventilation fan twirling above, sending flashes of light over her chrome chassis, “It is a shame that AJ could not be here to witness your return.”  
                Their conversation ended there, and Jack felt a pang in his heart.  While he’d been focused on the loss of Tai and the safety of the rest of the Marauders, he hadn’t taken into account how the Titans felt about their current situation.  Their range of emotions wasn’t unheard of, but _feeling_ what BT, a battlemech, _felt_ …that was new to him.  And then he imagined how Liam was dealing with it.  
“How you holding up, Miller?”  
**“I’ll live.”  
**                 Liam shifted behind them, attached to URI’s chassis.  He’d taken damage in the conflict, for being able to move as swiftly as a Ronin can comes with the sacrifice of the same levels of protection as the others.  
**“Wanna talk about it?”** Chris offered.  
**“Nope.  Like I said before, if EV can make a comeback, so can AJ.”  
**                 Jack cringed at the memory.  
                Liera, half alive.  EV’s distress beacon flashing amidst the chaos.  Ryan and CON holding the line, making sure no one got to her.  
                He wondered what Liam and AJ’s last conversation was before he ejected…then reminded himself it was none of his business.  
“The IMC is well-equipped with advanced Titan weaponry.” BT began, “Moving as a unit will be most beneficial to our success.”  
                Jack nodded, almost appreciative at the timely encouragement.  He shouldn’t have been surprised.  BT knew how he felt, too.  
**“Speaking of EV…Shit timing on a rogue mission to the IMC’s origin point.”** Chris snickered. **  
“You don’t say.”** Liam agreed.  
**“We don’t need a Top Gun Pilot to make it out of this alive.”** Akane huffed.  
**“We _need_ a full squad.” ** Sage tried to diffuse the potential argument, **“Liera’s ‘replacement’ didn’t last two seconds after we landed.”**  
**“What was his name again?”**  
**“Pilot Frank, Miller…”  
“Right, right.”  
**                 Jack failed to share the detachment in their discussion of their missing Pilot.  Lasky was a new addition to his battalion, but that didn’t make him any less valuable.  Not to him, at least.  
_“Maybe I’m too invested in my people.”  
_                 He remembered how quickly the Marauders fell apart after Ryan’s death, how they chased out the woman who was supposed to fill his spot, and how things hadn’t been the same after that.  
_“Or maybe this is just a front until they get home.”  
                _ A pipe was leaking a stream of brown as BT moved under it, the trickle tapping on his shoulder.  The tube-shaped tunnel they walked through emptied out into a larger room, the floor lost under a foot of stained water.  An observation deck that was high out of reach towered over clusters of smaller platforms, lined with barriers at waist-level.  
**“You seeing these readings?  Looks like a _water_** **Reclamation Facility…”** Chris looked around, his Ion’s cockpit rotating, **“How long have they _been_ here…?”  
“Longer than they should’ve.” ** Sage knelt, and ICE scooped a handful of the sludge, **“Don’t touch this.”  
“What’s in it?” ** Akane asked.  
**“Do you really want to know?”  
**                 She paused, **“No.  Not really.”**  
                Alarms blared, their screeches bouncing off the metal walls of the room.  
**“Hazardous waste pumps, now filtering.  Automated testing facility.  Zone 1.”  
                ** Two Titans came from around the pumps that now hummed to life, and another stormed out, perching on the deck above.  A small line of Grunts lined either side, their bouncing laser sights reflecting off the Marauders.  
                Sage sighed, **“Maybe one day we’ll be able to walk a kilometer off Harmony without IMC Titans shooting at us.”  
“Don’t say that,” ** Liam clicked his cloaking device and ran along the wall, climbing pipes and jumping over ventilation fans, **“I love my job!”  
“Retirement _does_ sound rather dull.” ** Akane’s Ronin drew his sword, ready to impale the approaching Titans.  
**“Cooper, have BT take out these Grunts so I can focus on the Sniper!”** Liam ordered.  
                Sage, Chris, and Akane ran past him, engaging in the two lowermost Titans.  
“On it.”  
                Jack used BT’s Multi-Target Missile System, and 6 orange circles claimed the Grunts along the railing.  He flipped the cover off the button and sent the seeking missiles flying.  
**“Nice shootin’, Coop!”** Liam’s cloak discharged, and Jack saw him on top of the Sniper’s chassis.  
                 Unlike the previous Sniper, this IMC Pilot didn’t panic.  Its arm reached behind it, nearly grabbing Liam in its grasp.  
**“Careful, Miller!”** Jack yelled.  
                Liam shot his Grapple at the Titan’s chassis.  
_“What is he doing?!”  
_                 Seeing the others had the bottom situation under control, he wasn’t sure what to do.  He knew he had to help Liam, but didn’t know.  The Sniper took a shot.  
                It punctured the wall in front of him, and Liam fell.  
**“Ah, hell…”  
**                 He sounded injured, and the enemy Titan aimed his rifle downwards.  
“BT, get me on that Titan!”  
                He unbuckled his harness, and leaped through the opening cockpit doors before BT’s hand was even in view.  He knew he’d be there, knew he’d catch him.  Felt his chassis move by his mind’s own summoning.  He’d seen Liera and EV do a throw more than once, and only hoped BT’s aim was as good.  
                It wasn’t until he was hurling in the air at another Titan, thrown by a Titan, that he thought about his course of action.  
_“Oh fuck, what-am-I-doing-why-did-I-do-this-“_  
                Jack’s landing wasn’t quite as smooth as his sister’s as his fingers barely caught the enemy Sniper Titan’s battery cover.  His hand slipped under the handle, and the Titan jerked.  
**“COOPER?!”** Liam screeched, backed in a corner with little-to-no cover.  
                Jack twisted the cylinder of the Sniper’s battery, using his jump kit to eject as he pulled it out.  His foot slipped, and he tumbled backwards.  
“MILLER!”  
                The pond of sludge came closer as he fell, the green lights of the battery twinkling in a pool that would pull his skin from his bones.  
                Footsteps slid to a halt, and a strong grip grabbed him by his vest’s shoulder straps.  Liam’s wall-hang arm dug in the side of the wall, and tattooed limbs held Jack secure above certain death.  
“Just like your goddamn sister, you know that?”  
                Jack gave him a nervous grin that he couldn’t see, “You’re one to talk.”  
                They were surrounded by a thick cloud, and an electric hum snapped them out of their moment of mutual respect.  
“Electric smoke!” Liam shouted, swinging Jack towards the wall.  
                His feet found purchase, and he wall ran out of the cloud, securing the battery to his hip.  
**“Miller, watch out!”  
                ** Chris’s Ion charged, 5 red lines scattering from her optical hub.  
**“Oh, no…”** Akane groaned.  
**“GET THEM, GRENIER!”** Sage cheered.  
                The lines came into contact, and formed one, thick red beam.  Liam’s Grapple pulled him out of harm’s way just in time for Chris’s Laser Core to sweep the deck, burning a hole straight through the Sniper.  
**“Enemy Titan down.”** GZ confirmed.  
**“WOOOOOO! That’s what I’m talkin’ about!”  
**                 Jack shook his head, hunched over and panting.   
                He stared at a pair of sliding doors that opened a tunnel lined with hazmat suits.  
                The PA chimed, and a message followed:  
**“Caution, hazardous materials may cause severe injury or death.  Wearing of a hazmat suit is required at all times in this facility.”  
                ** Akane snickered, **“So, Talon…about what’s in this sludge…”  
** “I found some hazmat suits.” Jack opened his visor to wipe his face, still catching his breath, “Think we should put them on?” **  
“I say we ought to.”** Sage paused, **“Ignoring safety regulations in a place like this could prove fatal.”**  
“This isn’t one of your bioweapon labs, Talon.” Liam made Jack jump as he fell from a wall, landing right next to him, “We can’t afford to stash our gear for ‘safety regulations.’  Just stay outta the brown shit.”  
                He rolled his shoulders and walked past the suits.  
“Pilot, our path through this facility is blocked by a Flow Regulation Gate.  There should be a control interface nearby.”  
                Jack closed his visor and scurried to catch up with Liam.  
“BT says there should be a control interface somewhere on the other side of this observation deck.”  
                Liam stopped, and turned his head over his shoulder, “You take point, then.  I was just lookin’ for ammo for my pistol.”  
                His Smart Pistol glimmered in the light, having been pulled from AJ’s SERE kit.  
“Right.”  
**“Where are you two headed?”** Chris asked.  
“Looking for a way ahead.  Following BT’s mark.”  
**“Rodger dodger.”  
**                 Jack smirked, but it faded as he and Liam entered an empty locker room.  There were numbers on the panels, and the area was better maintained than the others.  
“To think, they’ve been here the whole damn time.” Liam mumbled, “Just waitin’ for us to get cocky.”  
“No one’s at fault here…This is just what they do.”  
                Liam’s hand shot out, and he pressed his back to a wall on the side of an exit tunnel.  Jack followed, and crouched as he signaled to take cover.  
“Kane, we have enemy Titans near the south storm drains.  Requesting support!”  
                Liam looked back to Jack, his peculiar Sniper-Optimized helmet casting a narrow glow from its visor, “Keep following BT’s mark.  I’ll handle them.”  
                Jack gave him a nod, and clicked his cloaking device.  Liam rounded the corner with his shoulder, Smart Pistol ready to lock its targets.  
“Squad 14!  Hostile Pilot spotted!”  
“Would you stop all that hollerin’?” Liam pulled the trigger, killing two Grunts before getting in cover.  
                Jack traced a pipe as BT gave him directions, and tried not to slip on the wet metal.  He ran along a wall marked, “Turbine, 104 – 105.”  
_“This place is huge…”_  
                A marker on his HUD helped him navigate towards the flashing panel, sliding and jumping to dodge enemy fire.  He slipped through a duct, and found a red outpost in the distance.  The top of it was open, and he fell through the ceiling.  
                A U-shaped control panel lined the room underneath grime-coated observation windows.  
**“Cooper, where are you going?”** Akane asked.  
“To open this damn gate!”  
                He pressed the button BT highlighted, and the same automated woman’s voice filled the chamber.  
**“Maintenance override engaged.  Opening Flow Regulation Gate.  Warning: Toxic fumes dispersing in main chamber.  Activating control room safety airlock procedures.”**  
                The hatch he’d slipped through began to close, and Liam had barely slid in before the panels squeezed tight.  
“Pilot, the safety airlock has sealed you in the control room.  You must find another way out.  We have no choice but to split up.”  
“Split up?”  Jack frowned, “Sounds risky.”  
“Given our dire circumstances, this is a risk worth taking.”  
                He sighed, and checked for another exit.  
“Looks like there’s a service tunnel over here.” Liam cocked his chin towards a door, and pulled out his Data Knife.  
                The other 3 remained in their Titans, safe from the fumes and sludge that worked its way in the chamber.  
**“Way to go,”** Chris laughed, **“First op with the Marauders and you get yourself and Miller trapped in a control room.”**  
“Hey, at least I got the door open for you guys.”  
                His heart sank a little as the Titans disappeared under the now-raised hatch, BT among them.  
**“Watch your backs out there.”** Akane advised.  
“You too, guys.”  
                Jack watched BT until he disappeared, wishing he hadn’t followed instructions.  The service tunnel’s panel blinked, and the door slid open.   
“Data Knife couldn’t get past the airlock encryption, but we’ve got our way out.” Liam nodded, “You comin’?”  
                He shifted his focus, and took point as they proceeded down the tunnel.  
“’Once more unto the Breach,’ as they say…”

  

* * *

**PART II: Once More Unto the Breach**

* * *

* * *

                 aving to crawl through air ducts hadn’t been an option during Jack’s previous deployments, but it didn’t necessarily bother him.  Neither did constantly having to use wet pipes as bridges.  What irritated him the most about this place was the _smell._  
                The fog of metal shavings and stale machinery, like any deep breath would cut his lungs and lather the wounds in oil.  
                He shivered, and pushed the foul air from his nose.  
“Pilot, I am tracking your location.  Recommend you seek an exit.”  BT’s picture popped up, and the reminder that he had a Titan watching his back soothed his nerves.  
“Tracking me?” He chuckled, “That’s kinda creepy, BT.”  
“I have no wish to incite fear.   _That_ is reserved for our enemies.”  
“Copy that.”  
                The hunger in BT’s voice was renewed.  He’d had enough of the IMC’s shit, too.  
“Well, I’ll be.”  Liam walked down a small flight of stairs, entering a room that looked a lot like a barracks, “IMC scum’s been snug as a bug in a rug here on Typhon.”  
                Rows of lockers were in a less-than-homely room, while bunkbeds lined the walls.  
“Sure as hell beats a bivouac…” Jack pursed his lips at the empty mattresses.  
                Liam chuckled, “That’s for _damn_ sure.”  
                They took advantage of the moment of peace and monotonously pillaged through the lockers.  He found it curious how they started at the same time without verbal agreement.  
_“We’ve both been through this before to some degree, I guess.”  
_                 An uncharacteristic giggle came from the other side of the lockers, and Liam poked his head around the corner.  He had a picture of a woman pinched between his fingers.  
“Someone’s got quite the lady.” He grinned, “Think he’d mind if I gave her a ring?”  
“Hmph…” Jack returned to sifting through the military duffels, stashing away MREs and anything else he deemed useful, “Since when did you become such a ladies’ man?”  
“I ain’t.” Liam shut a locker on his side and opened another, “Probably could’ve kept your sister around longer if I was.”  
“…Excuse me?”  
“That came out bad…I meant if I knew to treat a lady, she might’a gave me a real shot.”  
                Jack’s nose twitched, and he sucked his teeth, “Won’t argue that.”  
“Eh…We weren’t good for each other.  Thought a year was long enough for her to get over losing Ryan, and me to get over losing…well…”  
                Everyone.  
                He’d lost his family when the IMC shot down Homestead’s evac ship.  
“All water under the bridge now.” Jack gave him an out, and moved on to the next locker.  
“Yeah…” Liam lost the strong-headed tone that usually came with his remarks, “Miss her, though.  Missed her even when she was here.  We all did…Do.”  
                Liera withdrew from everyone after Demeter, himself included.  Weeks went by where she barely uttered a word.  He had to force her to eat.  Briggs put her on military leave.  Tai helped her funnel her pain by helping her build EV’s new chassis, the first Vanguard III to be taken out of prototype stages.  
                And still, she was the glue that held Alpha Company together.  Without her, the team’s dynamic took a turn for the worst.  
                The Liera he knew had just started to resurface before she was sent away on a mission unlike any the Militia had planned before…From what he knew of, anyway.  
“She’s come a long way since then.  And she _better_ be okay…” Jack shut the locker, and his hand slid down the front, “After dad, I can’t…I _won’t_ …”  
                He didn’t finish the sentence.  The two of them ceased their looting, and stood in silence on their respective sides of the row of lockers.  
                Jack started to understand the anger that drove Miller so hard.  The rage that had him profiled as an asshole; a cocky, arrogant fuck who did nothing but talk down on other people.  Like him, he started to feel like the IMC was taking _everything_ away…and like him, his sadness started to twist and turn into something dark and cancerous.  
“Come on, Coop.  Let’s get going.”  
                Jack swallowed the lump in his throat, and blinked himself out of the pit he almost fell in.  
“Yeah.”

 

…

 

                Jack rolled a dead IMC Grunt on his back, grunting at the stupid expression on his face.  Liam slung his sniper rifle to his front, and looked at the questionable route before them:  
                Drain 05.  
                They stood on a grated bridge above a downwards ramp, trickling with filtered water that was clear over the dingy steel underneath.  The hatch at the bottom was raised just enough for them to slip through.  
**“How you two holding up?”** Chris asked.  
“Counting how many poor life decisions I’ve made to put me where I am right now.”  
                Liam hacked and spit in the flowing water, “Too many.”  
**“That’s reassuring.”** Sage snickered.  
“Don’t get your panties in a bunch.  I’m takin’ care of your little boy toy.”  
                Jack stiffened, and his face flushed.  
**“Uh…”**  
“Oh, come on.  You guys think you could keep it a secret for 6 years?”  
“Miller, can you just, like…” Jack winced.  
“’Not?’”  
                Jack nodded.  
“No can do.”  Liam patted him on the back.  
                The overhead speakers screeched, and the voice that followed made his blood boil.  
**“Listen up!  This is Kane. What we have here my IMC and Militia friends, is a failure…To…Communicate!  And that’s okay…That’s okay.  That’s _all_ good…”  
                ** His disconnected manner of speech made Jack uneasy.  He responded to the fear with anger, perhaps not at who was speaking, but how he let his threat sink through his skin.  
“Who the fuck is Kane?” Jack looked up at the speaker mounted on the wall.  
“Accessing Archive… _Kane_.  A mercenary commonly affiliated with the Apex Predators.  A well-known narcotics user and supplier.”  
**“He doesn’t sound stable.”** Sage huffed.  
“Agreed.” BT said, “Scans indicate the source is somewhere in this facility.  We should not waste time here.”  
**“Or perhaps we should hunt him down so I can reduce him to the same sludge we traverse through, now.”  
                ** He imagined Sage and ICE throwing their pits of fire all over the Apex Predators, and the thought warmed his belly.  
“Got a firecracker on your hands…No pun intended.” Liam snorted, cocking his chin at the water ramping down into a dark well of blackness, “So, slide to the end, jump and wallrun?”  
“Right...”  Jack groaned, swinging the Titan battery in front of him, “See you on the other side, I guess.”  
“That battery’s gonna swing.  Make sure you counter the weight.”  
“Why don’t you take it?”  
“You gotta learn somehow.” Liam winked, “I’ll catch you if you fall.”  
“Great.”  
                He sat down, putting the heels of his boots in the shallow stream.  It was surprisingly warm as it seeped through the flaps of his pant legs.  He took a deep breath, gulping at the-more-than-50-foot-drop.  
“We ain’t got all day, Coop!”  
                A strong leg pushed his back, and his hands landed in the water.  
“GODDAMN IT MILLER!”  
                He picked up speed as the current ramped downwards.  
“Pilot, are you in distress?”  
                Jack’s HUD bounced from left to right as he tried to steer himself with the rolling battery attached to his utility belt.  
“Yes!”  
“Is Pilot Miller responsible?”  
“YES!”  
                He bent his knees, angling himself to the right.  The edge was approaching faster than he wanted.  At the last second, he sent his strength to his feet and pushed off.  
                The battery swung backwards, and like an emergency brake pulled in the air, Jack fell short of his mark.  
“Shit-“  
                The ceiling rotated into view just before he broke into freefall.  
“Shit-shit-shit-“  
                Water dripped from Liam as he wall ran along the steel panels that Jack previously missed.  A Grapple shot from him, and landed square on his vest.  Jack wrapped his hands around the tether, scared it would tear his armor off.  
                He expected a pull, a yank, something to course-correct his plummet to death.  But Liam kept running.  
“MILLER?”  
“Quit whining!”  
                Liam jumped, grabbing a steel bar that hovered just above an overhang.  The tether snapped taut, and nearly knocked the breath out of him.  The halted momentum swung him forward as Liam guided it with his free hand.  The arc lead him towards another grated bridge, and the tether disconnected.  
“Uhhh-“  
                Jack’s jump kit fired, slowing him down just before contact.  His ankle rolled, and he flipped on his back in the fumble.  
                The Titan battery swung on his hip, landing square between the legs.  
“Oomph-…Oh…God-“  
                A MRVN unit looked at him, pausing its sweeping.  It was built like a Spectre, but had an LED smiley face for a stomach and a less menacing frame.  It cocked its camera-head, and the smiley face turned into a blue frown.  
**_“You know what we really need?  A pet Marvin.”  
_**                 The memory of Lasky, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, made him smile through the stars he saw in his crushing pain.  
                A single shot fired from Liam’s pistol, and sparks littered the bridge.  The MRVN twitched and fell, it’s head rolling into the abyss below.  
“Come on, man…” Jack tried to catch his breath, “He was just a happy little Marvin…”  
“An _IMC_ Marvin…”  
                Liam offered a hand, and pulled Jack to his feet.  He limped in place, struggling to shake the stinging pinch from below his belt.  
“You gotta keep the battery parallel with your leg.  Hold the handle before you jump.  Keep it strapped opposite of your dominate hand.  You can still shoot that way if you need to.”  
“Woulda been nice to know…”  
                Liam shrugged, “Bet you won’t ever forget this way, eh?”  
                He huffed.  
_“Definitely dad’s way of teaching things.”_               
“You okay to move?”  
                Jack nodded, and shook his hands.  
“Good thing you had your guard on…”  
                Liam cocked his chin at the wall, and started running alongside it.  
_“This is gonna hurt…”_  
                Jack followed his lead, jumping to the other wall to dodge a waterfall of corrosive sludge.  When another blocked their path, they switched sides.  They repeated this zig-zagging motion until they found a balcony at the end of the tunnel, glimmering in the dim light.  
                An IMC Grunt at his back turned, and Liam held position on a pipe just above.  Jack paused, crouched next to him.  They watched the patrolling squad, ready to pounce.  
“Hey, what’s up with Kane?  That merc’s got to be hopped up on something.”  
“Best to just stay away from him, mate.  Kane’s bloody unpredictable.”  
“Rodger.  That twitchy Merc doesn’t care who he kills.”  
                Jack pursed his lips, “Doesn’t seem like the Apex Predators are too loyal to the IMC.”  
**“Mercenaries aren’t loyal to anyone but themselves.”** Akane grunted, **“Credits _can_ buy loyalty.”  
** “You learn that during your stay with the Night Stalkers?”  
**“What do you think?”** _  
_                 Liam pulled his knife out, and waved it at Jack.  He did the same, and counted to 3 with his fingers.  
                They silently fell on each of the IMC Grunts.  In a simultaneous motion, their throats were cut and their bodies were rolled off the side.  
“Might leave a tang in their water supply.” Liam wiped his knife on his pant leg.  
“Some may call it spicy, even.”  
“Pfft-“  
                Liam’s shoulders bounced as he held in a laugh, and they continued down a hall.  It was lined with red-stained pipes for walls, and steel hatches for doors.  A light shone from a doorway, highlighting the grime and sheen on the metal coated with mist.  Jack and Liam pressed their sides on either side of the doorway as footsteps approached.  
                Liam pointed to himself, and Jack stood down.  
                An IMC Grunt walked through, and was yanked to Liam.  He punched him in the face, and stabbed him in the chest.  More importantly, he pulled the sniper rifle from his hands before his body dropped.  
“Got myself a new Kraber,” There was a smile to his words, “Must mean there’re outposts out there.”  
“I think they need lessons from the Marauders’ best marksman.”  
                Liam’s visor painted him in orange light, “You know, Coop, that might’ve been the smartest thing you’ve said since we found you.”  
“Uh, excuse me? I found _you_ guys _._ ”  
“Yeah, yeah…”  
**“Can you guys get going?”** Gunfire followed Sage’s transmission, **“The sooner we regroup, the better!”  
**                 Jack swallowed, and let Liam go first.  
                The doorway led to a huge, outdoor cement trench that stretched for miles.  It was a crossroads of sorts, where all the sludge vents emptied into a river below.  Multiple dams were marked in designated spots, all topped with maintenance ladders and walkways.  “DRAIN RUN-OFF 05,” was etched into a gigantic yellow strip that spanned the entire wall.  
“You guys seein’ this…?”  Liam whispered, walking to the railing of the balcony.  
                The sheer size of the convergence point brought a better question to mind.  
“Makes you wonder what they’re building that’s producing so much waste.”  
                Liam looked at him over his shoulder, “Manufacturing.”  
“But what?” Jack adjusted his rifle’s sling, “ _What_ are they manufacturing?”  
                IMC Grunts patrolled the opposing catwalks, armed to the teeth and in overwhelming numbers.   
“They sure as hell don’t want us to find out.”  
“So we should definitely find out, right?” Jack grinned.  
“One way or another, yeah.  We should.”  
                The PA screeched, and they took cover behind a stack of piled crates.  
**“To any Militia left in the facility, just so you know… This is Kane’s place.  You’re welcome to stay as long as it takes to kill you, which, by the way, will _not_ be long!”  
                ** Jack peaked his head up and over the crate, pulling down a munitions case.  He opened it, and gifted Liam the stacks of sniper ammunition.  
“Hmph,” Liam picked up a pack of shells, “This ain’t _your_ place anymore, bud.”  
                He mounted the Kraber on the stack, and rotated it to the right.  
“More West.” Jack squinted his eyes next to him, letting BT tag as many enemies as he could, “160 degrees.”  
                He corrected his aim, “Been awhile since I had a spotter.”  
                Liam squeezed the trigger, and a pop against the distant chamber caused shouts and panic from the ambushed IMC troops.  
“Hit.” Jack smiled.  
“Bet your ass it did.”

 

…

 

                Jack and Liam stood in front of a sign, heads cocked and covered in the sweet smell of gun powder.

  
  
“! WARNING !  
// STAY OUT //  
This is a secured quadrant.  
Orbitally surveilled.  
Patrolled by contractors.  
Violators will be prosecuted.”

 

                Jack huffed, “They did a shit job, eh?”  
“Mhm.”  
                They turned towards the end of a long walkway that gave them nowhere to go but a vent labeled, “07,” on the opposite side of the trench.  
“Pilot, I’m detecting friendly Militia forces along your path.  They may need assistance.”  
                He perked up at BT’s announcement, and looked at Liam.  They nodded at each other, and Jack took point.  
_“Please be there.”  
_                 Nelson, the guy who coached him through boot camp.  O’Connor, the smart ass who almost got court marshalled for the dumbest shit.  Lasky, the greenhorn he felt responsible for.  
                Jack ran along a pipe attached to the wall, his fingers gliding along the wet cement.   
**“This is Sergeant Eszo of the 2 nd Militia Fusiliers, 9th Militia Fleet!  We’re held up in the Reclamation Facility!  The IMC have some new mechanized infantry!  We’re trapped!”  
**“This is…” Pilot, Rifleman, he didn’t know what to call himself anymore, “Jack Cooper responding!” **  
**                 He jumped to another drainage pipe, shooting a drone that threatened to cut him off.  
“Nice shootin’,” Liam praised from behind, “Mid-air to boot.”  
“I’ve had some practice.”  
**“’The IMC have some new mechanized infantry!’  Heard _that_ before…” ** Chris sighed, **“Looks like you found your boys, Cooper.  Let’s hope these new robots are friendlier than the Spectres were when we first met** _**them.**_ **”  
“Let’s ‘hope’ we’re not running into another G21 incident.” ** Akane was quiet.  
                The others didn’t have anything to add, as was the way whenever Colony G21 was brought up in conversation.  
                Jack left the wall, and landed on a maze of pipes leading into a circular tunnel.  He dodged the seams, their bolts threatening to trip him and the steam escaping their gaps wanting to burn him.  He squinted through the condensation build-up on the outside of his visor as the faint glow of lights turned it into an orange veil.  
_“Wasn’t exactly built for humans to come through here.”_  
                He was happy to come out on the other side, despite the pond of rusty waste that separated him from a makeshift base.  
“Sergeant, I see something moving by the pipes.  Eyes up!”  A soldier shouted.  
“It’s a friendly Pilot!  Sarge, we got a friendly Militia Pilot!”  
“Hold your fire!” Eszo put his hand on a soldier’s rifle, lowering it, “He’s SRS! Look at his helmet!”  
                4 Militia soldiers were stationed on the balcony, one overlooking the edge with a grenade launcher in his hands.  Shells dotted the floor, a carpet of emptied firepower sprawled around a portable turret undergoing operation.  Metal frames of Spectres, red in color, lay side by side next to fallen Militia personnel.  
                As insensitive as it was, Jack scanned their faces, praying he wouldn’t see any of the men he was looking for.  
“Bodies confirmed.  Results: Negative.”  BT confirmed, writing on his HUD.  
                He released the breath he hadn’t realize he held hostage.  
“Good to see some friendly Pilots, sir.  Our squad has taken a beating.  They could use some help up ahead-“  Sergeant Eszo paused, “Lastimosa?”  
                Sergeant Eszo, one of the only 3 Ground Troop Sergeants in the Militia to undergo SERE training.  The man in charge of the 2 nd Militia Fusiliers, the soldiers who remained with him, now.  The man he’d have to disappoint.  
“Negative, Sergeant.” Jack took his helmet off, ignoring the shock on his face and breaking into a salute, “Rifleman Cooper reporting, sir.”  
                One of the pacing soldiers froze in place.  The wrench behind the turret stopped cranking, it’s wielder’s focus shifting.  The soldier on lookout turned around.  
                Among the boots on the ground, Jack Cooper was a name to be recognized.  He may have not known the Fusiliers, but they definitely knew _him.  
_ “Holy shit, Cooper…”  Eszo’s face twisted, “Damn it, Tai…”  
“What’s our status, Sergeant?” Liam clicked his visor open, and leaned the barrel of his sniper on his shoulder.  
                Eszo shook his head, as if waking himself up from a bad dream, “We, uh…We rallied here after receiving Cole’s transmission.  He’s-“  
“We know.” Liam cut him off.  
“Right.  SRS.  Of course.”  He cleared his throat, “They’ve got some newly modified Spectres.  They’re stronger, can take a beating, and they’re rigged with explosives.  We call them Stalkers.”  
                Eszo looked at his fallen men, “If you shoot the packs on their backs, they explode.  If they get too close to you, they _explode_.”  
“I’m sorry for the loss of your men, Sergeant.”  
                He gave him a quick nod, and cocked his chin at the soldier near the turret.  
“Rifleman Gartner, how’s the turret coming along?”  
“I think I got it but these servos keep seizing up…” He kept cranking at the device, “Come on, baby.  I know you’ve got one more fight in you…”  
                Jack frowned, surveying the mess.  
“Eszo,” Liam almost barked, “You see any others from the 41 st around here?”  
                Jack froze, his muscles tensing.  
“Lots of ‘em.  You’re standing next to one.” He cocked his chin at a body.  
“Troy O’Conner ring a bell?”  
                Eszo snorted, “Well, an SRS Pilot knows one of us by name, boys.”  
                A muted wave of laughter ripped through the men.  
“Hey, I knew Cooper when he was a Rifleman, too.”  Liam tried to lighten the mood.  
_“Was a Rifleman.”  
                _ Jack wasn’t sure how he felt about the remark.  
                Pilots and Riflemen weren’t really on good terms with each other when off the battlefield.  Whether it came from envy of a Pilot’s abilities or the lack of personality from Pilots to Riflemen was a popular debate.  
“Troy was the first refugee I met in Newdrift after my family and I evacuated from the Spire.” Liam sighed, “He talked me into joining.  Sack’o bones, back then, but he had spirit…”  
                The men looked at him, and their grins faded.  
“So…have you seen him, or the others?” Jack asked.  
                Eszo looked at him, “Don’t know every face in the 41st, Coop.  You’ll have to be more specific than that.”  
“Nelson. O’Conner.  Lasky.”  
                His face grimaced, and he looked back to his men.  
“They went up ahead when the stalkers hit.  Haven’t seen or heard from them since.”  
“They made it.” A man coughed, “There was a Pilot.  They scared her off with a rocket launcher and chased her.”  
“They _chased_ a Pilot?”  
“Y-yeah…Don’t know if she was IMC or with these APEX clowns…”  
                His lips pulled into a grin, shaking his head.  
_“Idiots…”  
_ “Got it.” The man working on the turret closed the service panel, “This ought to take care of those Stalker bastards.”  
“Well, now you’ve got a turret and two Pilots on your team.” Liam pulled his Smart Pistol out of its holster, “Said somethin’ about a squad up ahead?”  
“Yes, sir.” Eszo pointed at the opened door, “We got split up after the ambush.  They still need help.”  
                Liam chuckled, and rolled his neck towards Jack, “Still want me to ‘not pick fights with everyone?’”  
 “No, Miller.” Jack cocked his rifle, “Please do.”

 

…

 

  
                Yellow warning lights flickered in the hall, glistening off the damp metal.  A soft alarm matched their pulse, giving away the squad’s presence.  The spans of exposed pipes whispered a gas that stunk and threatened to make them cough.  
                Their boots squeaked no matter how quiet they tried to be.  Just another distraction.  
_“Modified Spectres…”  
_                 Meeting them once was bad enough.  Meeting their upgraded cousins?  
_“I can only imagine what kind of death machines the IMC has cooked up this time.”  
_                 The end of the hall was barred by a closed hatch.  
“How are we gonna get through, sir?”  Rifleman Gartner asked from behind, holding his folded turret with both hands.  
“Not sure.” Liam answered.  
“With all due respect, Pilot, I was asking my Sergeant.”  
                Liam grunted.  Jack didn’t need to see his face to know he was biting his tongue and giving the Rifleman his signature scowl.  
“They’re SRS Pilots, soldier.”  Eszo kept his voice low, “This is their show now.”  
                They’re.  
                Jack sighed.  
_“Acting Pilot…ACTING.  PILOT.”  
_                 He wanted the title, sure.  But he wanted to _earn_ it…Not pilfer it from a corpse.  
                A red ping on his HUD shut out his petty inner-ramblings, and he held up a fist to pause the squad in tow.  
“Hostiles inbound.” BT warned.  
“On the other side of the door?”  
                A bolt popped out of the hatch.  Metal crumbled from the other side, like when Liera used her prosthetic arm to bust through a barrier.  An electronic growl slipped through the cracks, and much like her, a silver fist punched forward.  
                Each panel was pulled aside, as if the robot was too anxious to kill them to wait for them to open by themselves.  
                It was taller than a Spectre.  Its armor was thicker, it’s movements were faster.  But it had the same, menacing red light for a face.  
                And Jack was facing it head-on.  
“STALKER!”  One of the soldiers yelled and fired in a panic, almost shooting him in the process.  
                Jack dove to the right, having nothing to hide behind, “Open fire!”  
                He hip-fired his rifle as he backpedaled, hitting the Stalker in the shoulder.  It looked at where the initial shot hit, rolled its shoulder, and focused on Jack like it was pissed.  It broke into a sprint, the squad’s combined fire ricocheting off its frame.  
                BT scanned it, and lit-up a pack flashing on its back.  
“Cooper, _down!”_ Liam shouted.  
                A grenade rolled in front of him.  He covered the sides of his head, forgetting he had a Pilot’s helmet to cover his ears.  But the heat from the explosion shot right past his visor.  
                The pipes in the ceiling took damage, and gave way for small leaks of sludge.  
  
“WARNING:  
HEAVY CORROSIVE DAMAGE!”  
  
                The warning flashed on Jack’s HUD as a trickle landed on his shoulder pad.  
“Shit-“  
                He jumped to the side, crashing into Liam.  
“What are you-…Ah.  Nasty stuff.”  
                The hairs on Jack’s arms stood, and he straightened himself out. _  
_ He was shaken, even if he didn’t want to be.  
“You’re alright.”  Liam brushed Jack’s shoulder off, flicking a twitching finger from the crook of his neck, “Easy does it, Coop.”  
                Jack gave him a series of quick nods, “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay.”  
_“Close call.”  
_                 Liam signaled the others to move forward, “Let’s roll.”  
                A ventilation fan spun at the end of the corridor, sending blade-shaped shadows dancing on the industrial walls of the Reclamation Facility.  A Militia body was sprawled in front of it, with half a Stalker at his feet.  
“Damn…” Liam knelt, swiping at a layer of black soot with his finger, “Stalker must’ve detonated.”  
                The Stalker’s hand shot out and grabbed Liam’s ankle.  It let a mechanical squeal from its belly, rattling with hunger.  
“What the fu-“  
                A light sprang to life from its core, and refused to let go.  
                Jack grabbed him by his shoulders, and kicked the Stalker where it’s neck met it’s shoulder.  Its hand slipped from Liam, and Jack pulled him away before another explosion rocked the hallway.  
                They fell to their sides, Jack’s helmet slamming on the floor.  
_“Like I didn’t have enough of a headache…”  
_                 His knee slipped under him, and he stumbled to his feet.  He offered Liam a hand.  
“Great,” He accepted it, “Now we got zombie Spectres.”  
                Jack twisted the bottom of his vest, readjusting it, “Just what we need, right?”  
                Gunfire echoed down the hall, coming in bursts of small pops between shouts.  
“Here they come!  Weapons free!”  
“They’re coming through the sludge!  There’s too many of them!”  
“Shut up and keep firing!”  
                Jack didn’t need confirmation.  He didn’t need a battle plan.  
                He ran ahead; ran in blind, because he _needed_ to get to the Militia soldiers who were fighting for their lives.  
                The same men that were designated to support the SRS during their expedition.  
_“It’s time for the SRS to support_ them. _”_

 

…

 

                Five Militia soldiers hid behind columns on the edge of a wide entryway.  The IMC had the high ground, shooting from an elevated platform labeled “GATE 03,” on the other side of a brown pond of corrosive waste.  The lights from their trucks blinded Jack for all but a moment, and a singing bullet impaled the wall to his right.  
“Reinforcements, on your six!” Eszo yelled.  
“About time!”  
                They might have not been the particular soldiers he was looking for, but that didn’t change how they needed their help.  
“Alright boys, shoot ‘em dead!”  Liam called, beckoning Eszo’s squad.  
                Jack hit his cloaking device, and ran along a wall.  He double-jumped across the gap, thankful he’d mastered the skill instead of falling to the acidic death below.  
_“Need to find a way to get the others across.  I wonder how deep this is…”_  
                He landed behind an IMC Grunt, still shooting at the Militia firing squad.  He kicked him off the ledge, sending him into the sludge.  
                His hollers ripped through the rest of the gunfire and exploding Stalkers that shook the chamber.  
_“8 inches, give or take.”  
_                 His skin peeled away from the rest of him, and his cries for help died out into small squeals of dying IMC scum.  
                Jack fired at a squad coming from around one of the large trucks, cursing their overwhelming numbers.  He slammed his back against the column, reloading his weapon.  
_“Those trucks are pretty big…”  
_                 He had an idea.  A stupid one.  
“Grenier, think you can get me into this deployment truck’s control panel?”  
**“Think?”** He chuckled, **“If there’s one thing I learned from my time with the IMC, it’s that they don’t invest enough money in their software.  Get your Data Knife in that console, and I got you.”  
“What wild hair you got up your ass this time, Coop?” ** Liam growled as he shot an IMC Grunt, his head popping next to Jack.  
“Just…Just keep doing what you’re doing.”  
                Jack rolled his shoulder off the column and used his jump kit to slide to the open driver-side door.  He pulled himself in and slammed it shut, shoving his face in the passenger’s seat to dodge a bullet.  
                A small crack formed in the windshield, but the bullet-proof glass took the hit.  
**“Kane! Come in!  We have a group of Vanguards near the control room! I think they’re SRS, requesting support!”  
**                 The panicked IMC Grunt’s message came through the truck’s radio.  
**“You _think_ it’s SRS?  _ALL_ Vanguards are SRS, you idiot!”  ** Kane sucked in a shuddering breath, **“If you can’t handle the job, I will.  Just leave it to good ol’ Kane to clean up your mess!  IMC deadweight…”  
                ** Jack smiled to himself.  
_“Come down then, mother fucker.”  
_                 He pulled his Data Knife from its sheath and used the blade to lift the cover of the control panel, starting at the left and working his way right with small, upward pulls.  He lifted it and pressed the button, jamming it in a socket in the middle.  
**“That you in the truck?”** Liam asked.  
                Jack looked up, spotting his orange light from across the way.  
“Sure is.  Keep them off me!”  
**“BT’s patching me in.  Working on the decryption lock.”** Grenier confirmed.  
                The numbers spun on the LED handle of the Data Knife.  
_“Come on…get a lock, get a lock-“  
_ A green light flickered on his sleeve.  His brow furrowed and he hooked his chin on his bicep.  
_“What the-“  
_                 His knife was blinking.  Not the serrated survival knife he recovered from Tai’s body.  Not the Militia-issued Data Knife that was failing to do its job.  But the dull, pointless artifact he kept on his person.  The IMC relic left by his father. **  
**                 Jack pulled the blade from his shoulder, and eyed it carefully.  It matched a blinking light under the truck’s steering wheel, almost like an ignition.  
“Might not be necessary.”  
**“How come?”  
**                 An explosion rocked the truck, rattling him in his seat.  
_“Fuck this…”  
_                 He jammed the blinking knife in the socket, and turned it towards the front like the arrow painted on the frame said to.  
                Sure enough, the truck started.  
**“How did you-“  
** “Everyone, get back!”  Jack cut Chris off, and dropped the truck in reverse.  
                He put his hand behind the seat next to him, turning his head to look out of the rear windshield.  
                An IMC soldier had a rocket launcher aimed at him.  
_“And fuck you, too.”  
_                 The wheels screeched as his foot hit the accelerator.  He hit the Grunt- _hard_ , and crashed the back of the truck into the wall.  
                The collision bounced his head against the steering wheel, filling the room with a loud honk.  
“Ow…” He groaned, ignoring the gunfire pellets that bounced off the hood.

 **“Well ‘beep,’ to you too,”** Liam poked his head out from around cover, down below with the rest of the Militia soldiers, **“Are you about to do what I think you’re about to do?”  
** “Sure am.  And before you tell me not to…” He smirked, and pushed the transmission to 4-wheel drive, “’No can do.’”  
                The truck’s 6 wheels spun in place, and he counter steered to keep it straight.  The lights brightened the lower wall as he got closer.  The front two tires slipped off the edge, hooking on the exterior wall and whining as they failed to find traction.  
                The windshield pointed at the ground.  Blood rushed to the back of his head as the rear pointed at the ceiling.  He pulled his knives from their sockets, and quickly stuffed them back where they belonged.  
“TIM-BER!” He kicked the door open, and jumped out just in time to run along the face of the platform, barely above the sludge pool.  
                The top of the truck slammed down, crushing two Stalkers with it’s weight.  The engine whined, its belts slipping from their tracks and choking as they came to a full stop.  
                The flipped truck formed a bridge.  
**“Hot damn!”** Liam called, running to the end and dropping a Pilot-sized particle shield, **“ALL ABOARD!”  
“That was some quick thinking, Pilot!” ** Sergeant Eszo climbed a crate, and jumped to the edge of the truck, **“Let’s go, Fusiliers!”  
**                 The IMC that Liam _didn’t_ pick off pushed back behind the last remaining truck, taking shots at the Militia squad.  
                Jack climbed back on the platform, providing cover fire for their flank.  
                Liam had them suppressed from the front.  
                He had them pinned from the right.  
                Without any Stalkers left to push the line, the IMC Grunts were forced to hold position.  
**“Friendly rocket going out hot!”** A Rifleman pointed his rocket launcher, and a trail of smoke went spiraling towards the mob of IMC forces.  
**“BRACE FOR CONTACT!”  
                ** It hit the back end of the truck, and blood splattered the walls behind it.  
**“PUSH FORWARD!”** Liam shifted his shield to block the debris, and the soldiers listened.  
                In orderly fashion they jumped from the underbelly of the truck to the platform.  
                Jack walked to the fiery mess of dead IMC, and saw a body squirming on its stomach.  
                One of them had survived.  
                He drew his pistol, and let it dangle at his side as he approached.  The soldier heard his footsteps, and flipped over on his back.  
“Please, no-“ He held his hands out, “I have a family!”  
                His sights found his head, but he hesitated on the trigger.  
                This man had a family.  Probably a wife and kid.   Some house off-planet with a yard.  Maybe a dog.  
                A happy little family…  
                An _IMC_ family.  
                Jack pulled the trigger.  
_“A family with one less member…”_  
                The man’s crying stopped.  
_“…Just like mine.”  
                _ And much like the MRVN Liam shot, the man’s body was left without a head.

 

…

 

                Jack spun the gauze wrap around a soldier’s arm, covering the widening red dot on the white fabric.  He pulled tighter, and moved faster.  Once he was finished, Liam handed him a piece of medical tape.  
“Your time at Newdrift teach you how to do all this?” Liam turned his head towards his previously treated patients.  
“Mostly.” Jack patted the soldier on the shoulder, and stood up, “That and getting shot more than once.  Keeps you on your toes.”  
                Liam grinned, his helmet on his hip, “Guess so.”  
                Jack cocked his head, “Where’s AJ’s core?”  
                He ran his fingers through his beard, his fingerless gloves disappearing through the thick strands of hair, “Left it with Talon.  Can’t risk losing it out here.  Not with you flipping trucks and whatnot.”  
                Liam reloaded his Smart Pistol MK6, fully equipped with a multi-targeting auto-lock mechanism.  Point, wait for the targets to be acquired, and shoot.  5 targets at a time, all headshots if you’re good.  
“Why don’t Pilots use those all the time?”  
                Liam put his hands on his hips, and spit on the ground.  
“Ever wonder why they’re in SERE kits next to a Vanguard core?”  
                A SERE kit.  
                A sharpened knife, a Smart Pistol, and a Titan GPU.  All exclusive to Vanguards.  
“Because…If you’re behind enemy lines without a Titan, you’re fucked?”  
“That.  Sure.” Liam flipped his helmet over his head, “And, no matter what, these cores can NEVER fall into the hands of the IMC…and neither can Smart Pistols.  What better protection for a core and a Smart Pistol than stuffed on top of a Titan.”  
                He latched his collar, “If a Titan fails to do the job, it’s up to the Pilot to see it through.”  
                It was something he hadn’t thought about.  
                Vanguards won the Titan Wars for the Militia.  They were smarter than the mass-produced IMC Titans.  They could swap abilities and modify themselves on the go.  
**“Evelyn designed those cores, you know.”** Sage murmured.  
“I remember…Tai had this grand idea for the Vanguard I chassis.  He needed a program sophisticated enough to handle the processing commands for the Core Swap.”  
**“Right.  They used the funding from Lastimosa’s Armory to design it…”** Her voice trailed off.  
“And…?”  
**“BT was the first Vanguard ever put in service.  He’s more sentient than most Titans.  He’s special, Jack…If you bond with him like your father did, I think you’ll be surprised what you find.  I know I was when I got to know ICE better.”  
**                 Getting to know a Titan…The concept was still mind-boggling.  
“Any idea what makes the Vanguards tick?”  
                Jack scrunched his nose at the following silence.  
**“Remember that time Grenier got locked up for a week?”** Akane asked.  
**“How did I _know_ this was gonna come up…** ” Chris whined.  
**“Because you’re an idiot.”  
**                 Jack shrugged, “Yeah, I remember.  No one could tell me why.”  
**“He plugged GZ’s core into his laptop and tried to find the answer to the question you just asked.  Best not think about it.”  
**                 Somehow, her warning made his stomach churn, even with her glowering features at a distance.  
_“Interesting, to say the least…”_  
                The rest of the Militia forces started to get restless, and they began gearing themselves up for travel.  Sergeant Eszo took to his side, and saluted Liam, “Thanks for the assist, sir.  We’ll take it from here.  You go on ahead.”  
                Liam looked at him, and thought for a moment.  
                He extended his hand, and opened his visor, “Any time.”  
                Jack watched the handshake in front of him.  The unity he’d sought for.  The acknowledgement of each other as human beings.  Even how Liam opened his visor before addressing Eszo made his heart warm.  
                And then the rest of his mind caught up.  
“Wait, what?” He turned to Liam, who walked away, “We can’t just…”  
                He lowered his voice, and jogged to him, “We can't just _leave_ them here.”  
“They’d slow us down, Cooper.”  He put his hand on Jack’s shoulder, and forced him to turn around.  
                The soldiers stood in formation, their weapons at the ready.  
“Those are 10 lives that didn’t end today, thanks to you.  We’ve done all we can for them.”  
                Jack shrugged his hand off, “No, we haven’t.  They’re not with Cole yet.”  
“Cooper…”  
“It’s just like the refugees on Harmony.  Saving them isn’t enough.  It _never is._   We’re _responsible_ for them now…”  
                He wasn’t breaking through.  
“Alright.”  
                Or maybe he was.  
“I’ll go with them.”  
                Jack whipped around, “Huh?”  
“I’ll get them through the halls, and I’ll regroup with the Marauders.  And then we’ll escort them the rest of the way.” Liam jabbed a finger at his chest, “But _you_ have to go on ahead.”  
                He cocked his chin at a vent high off the ground, “Now.”  
“Uh…Okay.” Jack nodded excitedly, “Yeah, okay.  I can do that.”  
“And Cooper,” Liam stood strong, not giddy like himself, “I got somethin’ to say to you.  So keep your mouth shut and listen to me for a sec.”  
                He opened his mouth, and then thought against it.  
“I’m real sorry.  About earlier.”  He over his shoulder, “Been so focused on survival and getting home that I forgot about something.  It’s _our_ job to make sure there’s a Militia to be a part of by the time this war is over…Every life counts out here.”  
                Jack swallowed the lump in his throat.  
“Thanks, Miller.”  
                But his voice cracked like he was a teenager again.  
_“Wow, embarrassing…”  
_                 Liam nodded to him, and slapped his shoulder.  
“Stay safe out there, Pilot.”  
                And then he made him emotional all over again.  
_“’Pilot…’”  
_                 A Marauder just called him a Pilot.  
“Y-you too, Miller.”  
                He stood there, stunned, as the Militia soldiers cheered on Miller’s approach.  
                Even Sergeant Eszo looked behind him at Jack while the others rejoiced, giving him a thumbs up.  
                Jack could hardly feel his hand lift as he returned the gesture.  
_“Maybe he’s not so bad, after all.”_

…

 

                Jack kicked the cover off the exit vent, and slid out of the air duct.  He was greeted by a circular room with a thick waterfall of waste encompassing the middle.  The only way was up.  
_“What could possibly go wrong?”_  
                Wall running in a circle…dancing with a substance that could eat through everything he wore.  
                He looked at the battery still dangling from his waist, and wondered if it was worth it.  
_“Yeah, it’s worth it.  Because if BT runs into trouble, you’ll have a backup.”_  
“Pilot, exercise caution.”  
                BT’s unexpected comment made him jump. _  
_                 He huffed, “You can say that again.”  
“Pilot, exercise caution.”  
_“Goddamn it…”  
_                 Jack snorted, “You too, BT.  Where are you?”  
“We are following the stream of sludge.  The current is strong up ahead, suggesting an exit.  Keep moving forward.”  
“Yeah, yeah…” He stretched a cramp in his legs, “Feels like I’ve been walking for days…”  
“You have been.  However, your vitals appear to be stable.  Do you require rest?”  
“Would be nice, if I’m being honest.”  
“There is no time for rest.  We must uphold the mission.”  
                Jack snickered, “Smart ass Titan, aren’t you?”  
“I have been told.”  
                He gathered his courage, and made his way to the ledge.  He jumped to the right, running parallel to the corrosive liquid.  He landed on a pipe, stopping only long enough to adjust his direction.  He repeated the run and break motion, pausing on any fixture he could.  
_“No one ever tells you how creative Pilots have to be.”  
_                 The radio overhead screeched, and the echo in the chamber made his teeth grit.  
**“So, I got word there’s some Vanguard-class Titans and SRS Pilots taking out my IMC support.  Whoever you guys are…”** Kane clapped slowly, **“Not bad.  Not bad at all, my friends.  I just hope you’re better than the _last_ Pilot I killed…”  
                ** Jack landed on an extended bridge, his fingers curling into a fist as he straightened himself up.  
**“This the guy who killed Cap?”** Chris sounded nervous to ask.  
                Or maybe he was hopeful the answer was “yes.” **  
** “No…” Jack bit the inside of his cheek, “It was Blisk.”  
**“Who do you think Kane got, then?”  
“I don’t know, and I don’t care.” ** Akane sounded more angry than usual, **“He needs to die.”**

 **“Agreed.”** Sage’s helmet popped up under hers. **  
“Count me in.”** And then Chris’s.  
                Jack cracked his neck, and kept moving.  
_“Taunting any SRS Pilot is dangerous…But this guy has no idea he’s talking to a group of Marauders.”_  

 

* * *

  **PART III: Evolve or Die**

* * *

* * *

                 f he never saw another pipe again, it would be too soon.  However, using them as an effective route for transportation was something he found he had a knack for.   
_“Don’t slip, don’t slip-“  
                _ BT’s avatar interrupted his focus, and he almost fell.  
“Pilot, our paths will intersect just up ahead.”  
                He regained his balance, and sighed in relief, “Missing me already?”  
“I was not shooting at you.  That would be in violation of Protocol 3.”  
“Never mind…”  
                He grunted.  
_“’More sentient,’ my ass.”  
_                 The facility’s intercom crackled, except it was the facility’s AI that rang through, this time.  
**“Attention: There is a deceased Prowler at Junction 3A.  Requesting immediate removal.”  
                ** She sounded just as psychotic as Kane, though.  
**“Hope that’s not Rex...”** Chris mumbled.  
**“He might look stupid, but my boy ain’t one to get himself stuck in a pump.  He’s out there somewhere.  Just gotta find him.”  
“Maybe he likes life better with his kind.”  
                ** Akane groaned, **“Not again, Talon…”  
“I’ve been saying for years now that it’s wrong to keep a wild animal locked in a domestic lifestyle.”  
“The people of the Spire’ve been domesticating Prowlers for centuries.  Rex is perfectly happy with me.”  
“Where is he, then?”  
“Missing.  Probably trying to find his way…Cold, hungry…”  
                ** Jack smirked as his feet finally found solid ground, “He’ll be okay, Miller.  Somehow, I can’t picture Rex shivering and whimpering under a tree.”  
**“Yeah, you’re right.  He’s probably out there chewing all sorts of IMC tail.”  
** “That’s the spirit.” _  
_                 Jack continued down a service tunnel, glad to see BT standing on the other side of a glass window at the opposite end of the room.  
“It’s good to see you, buddy.”  
“It is good to see you too, Pilot.  Your helmet provided me with a live feed of your actions.  You fought well out there.”  
                A soft smile stretched his cracked lips, but he paused as he turned the corner.  There was a blinking console below a row of screens, all flashing with data.  The chairs in front of them were empty, cocked at the corners like the people stationed there left in a hurry.  
**“Find something?”** Chris asked, his Titan parked next to BT.  
“Give me a sec.” Jack gripped the old IMC blade in his hand, eyeing it critically.  
_“All this time, talking about how dull the edge was…And it was a goddamn Data Knife disguised as a shitty weapon.”  
_                 He flicked his thumb on the edge, reinforcing how it had no bite to it at all.  
_“Good going, bio-dad.”  
_                 Jack found a keycard slot on the console, and jammed the knife inside.  The handle flashed green, and the left screen hanging on the wall went dark.  
                He gulped, and started to sweat.  
_“Maybe I should’ve thought this one through.”  
_                 A cursor blinked, and wrote out a message:  
  
“Welcome back, **[Pilot: Nathan K. Black]**.  
It has been **[183 days]** since you last logged in to the Interstellar Manufacturing Corporation Online Network.  Please reset your password.”

Whatever data he was hoping to retrieve, it wasn’t nearly as complicated as what he received.  He froze, watching the cursor blink at the end of the request.  
_“Nathan…Black?”  
_                 The Pilot on the document found in Tai’s room.  The apparent owner of the IMC blade he’d kept with him since he was a child.  
_“My…”  
_                 His jaw shook, and his fists tightened.  He opened his visor, and ripped the knife out of the console.  He marched to the opening, pointing the blade at BT.  
“YOU KNEW ABOUT THIS!”  He shouted, jamming the Data Knife its holster, “When I asked you before, about knowing who Nathan was-“  
“Pilot-“  
“YOU _KNEW_!”  
                He gripped the bars that prevented him from progressing.  BT was on the other side, watching him from afar.  
_“What are you gonna do, punch him?”_ His teeth locked together, _“No.  No, just keep yelling.”  
_ “Pilot Cooper.” BT remained calm, “I believe we should discuss this in private.”  
**“Coop, what are you yelling about?”** Chris’s Ion shifted towards him.  
“How long did _he_ know?” Jack growled.  
                BT remained quiet.  
“Who _else_ knew?”  
                And still, he didn’t answer him.  
**“Jack?”** Sage asked, ICE peeking out from over GZ’s shoulder, **“Knew what?”  
**                 He ignored them.  Didn’t want to hear anything from anyone except the lying Titan in front of him.  
“We will discuss this at a later time.  We must continue.”  BT turned away, and marched down a hall.  
“BT!” Jack squeezed the bars tighter, his cheeks cold from pressing against them, “B-T-!”  
 “The controls to deactivate the sludge flow are in the next chamber.  Marking your HUD.”  
                The Titan that was supposed to be his partner disappeared behind a concrete wall.  The others looked at each other, and back to Jack.  
**“Where’s Miller?”** Akane asked.  
**“With the…Mil…troops-“** Liam fired his gun, **“Comi…”  
                ** His transmission went mute.  Chris and Akane hounded him for letting Liam run off on his own again.  Sage tried to shut them up.  
                But their words were lost in translation while his mind tried to decode the discovery.  
                The file he found was covered in black lines.  He’d gone through all he could.  
                Nathan Black.  A sleeper agent for the Militia, planted in the IMC.  Involved in Operation: Persephone, some spec ops that revolved around the Demeter Campaign.  A hand-written note talking about a kid named Shaun Black.  His kid.  
                Him…  
                Maybe.  
_“Most of that file was redacted.  That means only higher-level security personnel would be briefed on the intel…Like a Captain in the SRS.  Like Tai Lastimosa.”_  
                Jack had been successful in tuning out the insurmountable fuckery that marked Liera’s deployment.  The _MCS James MacAllan_ being brought down.  The haunting thoughts of Tai’s death.  How his friends might be dead.  
                But this?  He couldn’t quiet it.  
_“Personnel like Eli Anderson…”_  
                A message window appeared on his screen, “Incoming transmission from Pilot Grenier.  Closed channel.”  
                Chris’s feed opened live-time.  
“Hey, Grenier…What’s up?”  
                He cocked his head, **“We gonna talk about how you ended up with a Gen-1 IMC Data Knife?”  
**                 Jack swallowed, “It…It was my dad’s.”  
**“Why did Tai have that relic on him?”  
** “Not Tai.”  
**“…Oh. _Oh._ ”**  
“Yeah.”  
                He’d been told Sarah Cooper left it for him.  Gave it to him as Angel City fell.  
                He wasn’t so sure he believed that story anymore.  
**“Still…That thing’s _old._   Like, was decommissioned before you and I were even born, kind of old.”  
**“Really, now?”  
**“Yep.  When I was IMC side, they had some of those in display cases back on Training Ground Whitehead.  History of the IMC, blah blah blah.”  
** “Hm…Interesting.”  
                Chris cracked his neck, **“Mhm.  Alright, well…I’ll leave you to it.  Reach out of you need to talk about…whatever _that_ was.”  
**“Thanks.”  
                His face disappeared, and the channel closed.  
“When all this is over…” Jack growled, “We’ve got a _lot_ to talk about, BT.”  
“…Agreed.”

**…**

                Jack entered what seemed like a storage depot.  It was cluttered with opened weapon cases, abandoned duffle bags- empty, of course.  He was on auto-pilot, not focused on the task at hand.  If he hadn’t been, maybe he would’ve been upset.  
**“Hazardous waste pump now draining automated testing facility – Zone 3.”  
                ** A door slammed shut, out of view, sounding like it came from the chamber to his left.  
**“Shit…”** A heavy thump echoed from the other side of the wall, **“Coop, we’re cut off.  You’re gonna have to get to the control panel BT was talking about on your own.”** Chris sounded less than enthused.  
**“There’s 20 or so IMC personnel in that room.  We’ll have to find a way around.”** Sage argued.  
**“He can handle it.  Right, Cooper?”** Akane challenged him in her own sort of way.  
“Whatever.” He closed his visor, and waited for BT’s sonar scans to report back.  
                The outside chamber was set up almost exactly like the first one they’d entered.  The only difference was the ceiling had circular hatches built in to it, as if the IMC needed to transport things vertically.  
                Tons of orange outlines took to the form of humans, lazily patrolling the area.  
                Jack hit his cloaking device, and stuck to the perimeter.  
“I believe I have found an alternative route.” BT announced, “Follow me.”  
**“See?”** Sage clapped happily, **“Hang tight, Jack.”  
** “Too late.”  He ran along the wall, landing on top of a Grunt standing outside the marked control box.  
                He cut his throat, and stormed towards the console inside.  A large touch pad was labeled, “ACTIVATE.”  
                Once he pressed it, an alarm rose in volume from a low, growling pitch.  
**“Overriding pump filter systems.  Emergency shutdown initiated.”  
                ** Jack pulled the hammer back on his rifle, “That’ll get their attention.”  
**“There’s a mass of IMC soldiers heading to your location…”** Sage whispered. **  
** “Good…”  He hit his cloak again, “Good.”  
                A team of 6 stormed the control room.  
“Lost sight of target-“ The Grunt in command pointed his weapon at the corners in the room, “Where are they?”  
                Jack bit the pin out of his grenade, and tossed it in front of him, “Here.”  
                He closed the hatch, and jumped on the roof before it was blown off the hinges.  
                The plate of metal screeched along the grate, flattening another enemy against the wall.  Both sides were dripping with red by the time it leveled out.  
“We need reinforcements in the pump room, _NOW_!”  Another squad took shots at him and he stepped off a platform.  
“Drop in the Ticks!  Flush him out!”  
“Lambda Four Airborne, releasing Ticks!”  
                He took to high ground, running along a curved pipe.  
“What are ticks?”  
**“They’re spider-like drones that actively seek out enemies before self-detonation.”** Sage explained, **“Please, be careful…You’re stuck in there with a bunch of homicidal maniacs.”  
** “I’m not stuck in here with _them._ ”  
                Jack landed in the middle of a squad, gripping a soldier in a choke hold before firing his pistol in his back.  
“They’re stuck in here with _me._ ”  
                He shifted his shield towards the group, putting his back to the wall.  He shot two of the squad members before ejecting an empty mag and sliding the gun along a fresh one on his belt.  He pressed it against the dead soldier’s shoulder and used his fingers to cock it back.  
**“Pump shutdown sequence at 20%.”  
                ** A light scurrying sound came from his right, and he threw his corpse-shield at a mob of Ticks. They were red bulbs on 4 legs, and the circles on top of them glowed orange as the IMC body came into contact.  Jack double-jumped and fled before detonation.  
_“Stalkers…Ticks…IMC is all about suicidal robots nowadays.”  
_                 Deployment lines rippled from the hatches in the ceiling.  
“Lambda Five Ground rappelling now!”  
“Lambda Five Airborne on station, releasing Ticks!”  
                The IMC bodies came sliding down, followed by a sprinkle of more robotic bombs.  
**“More Spicy Boys on the way, watch out!”** Chris called.  
“What did you just call them?”  
**“He means ticks!”** Akane clarified.  
“Jesus Chr-“  
                He saw the Marauders climbing up a set of stairs, opposite from where he was and behind a clear panel.  BT’s pods extended, but the support he expected to follow never came.  
“Can you reach anyone?!”  
                BT turned to face him, “The sludge falls contain a high concentration of heavy metals.  They are interfering with my targeting systems.”  
                Jack slid behind a column to dodge enemy fire, unable to rest due to the army of “Spicy Boys,” chasing him.  
“How hard can it be?! Just shoot!  
“Blind firing into my Pilot’s combat zone would be a violation of Protocol 3.”  
_“Is lying to your Pilot a violation of Protocol 3?”_  
                Jack shot at the Ticks, and they detonated prematurely.  
_“Like a 16-year-old on prom night.”  
_**“Pump shutdown sequence at 40%.”  
**                 He turned a corner and paused to catch his breath.  
“BACK UP!” An IMC soldier yelled, “Call for back up!”  
                Jack opened his visor to wipe his forehead, and turned around to see more Ticks chasing him.  
“Goddamn it…”  
                The Grunts followed the stream of scurrying robots, and Jack was on the run again.  
“Be advised, Tau Five Airborne releasing Ticks!”  
“Tau Four Ground rappelling in!”  
                He aimed at the squad dropping from the lines, and his rifle clicked.  
“Fuck.”  
                He switched to his pistol, and hit the ground running.  
**“Jack, we can’t get through!”** Sage cried out, **“You have to get this hatch open!”  
**                 He looked over his shoulder to see a small Pilot banging on the missile-proof shield.  
“I’M _WORKIN’_ ON IT!”  
**“Pump shutdown sequence at 60%.”  
**                 The alarm tripled in speed.  It almost matched his footsteps as his cramping legs kept moving him forward.  
                The cement burst in front of him.  A sniper shot crackled the air.  
                A running figure flickered, charging him head on.  
_“Another fucking Pilot.”  
_                 He jumped, and hit his cloak.  
“End of the line, _Militia.”  
_                 He elbowed Jack in the back of the head, and he fell from the wall to the floor.  
“Fu-“ He pushed himself up, and hit the barrel of his sniper away with his forearm. _  
_                 It fired in the opposite direction, sparking the wall of the control room.  
                Jack took three shots, and his pistol jammed.  
“What is _with_ these guns all of a sudd-“  
                He ducked to dodge a blow, and jumped to avoid being swept off his feet.  The Pilot’s jump kit pushed him forward.  He glimmered in the dim light, composed of wires and twisted bars.  
_“A Simulacrum?”  
_                 The IMC Pilot missed his punch, and his fist cracked the concrete wall.  
_“Wonderful.”  
_                 Jack put his knife away, realizing it wouldn’t be effective.  
**“Pump shutdown sequence at 80%.”**  
                Every time Jack struck him, his knuckles ached.  Every time he blocked his attack, a bruise was left swelling on his skin.  He needed to get out of this.  
                A crack met the side of his helmet.  His tactical flashlight flew across the pavement, bouncing and tapping against the wall.  His vision flickered, and his senses were dulled.  
                He landed on something.  Cylinder in shape, impaling his side.  A green thing that he wished pillowed his landing, but instead, made it so much worse.  
_“The Titan battery…”  
_                 The Pilot walked towards him slowly, his feet clanking against the metal grates on the floor.  
“And here I thought the SRS were the best the Militia had to offer…What a shame.”  
                Jack’s hand slid under his hip, and detached the battery from his waist.  His fingers slid around the handle, and he jammed it into the ground, using it as a crutch to stand himself up.  
“Your Titan friend can’t save you, Militia dog.”  
                The sensors in his helmet spazzed, and he opened his visor to give himself a clear picture.  He spit a mouthful of blood on the ground, “I don’t need him to kick your ass.”  
                The Simulacrum swung at him, and Jack ducked low.  The battery came around, anchored on his hands, the weight of it lagging behind his swing.  
                The case hit his head first.  Sparks flew from his chassis.  
                The battery bounced off the floor, and Jack used both of his hands to swing it back, hitting the other side of the Pilot’s face.  
**“Holy shit Coop,”** Chris laughed, **“You just bitch-slapped that Sim into the next dimension!”  
                ** The Pilot stumbled on the edge of the platform, and Jack sent him down to the sludge with a strong kick.  
**“Pump shutdown sequence: Complete.”  
**                 The barrier keeping out the rest of the Marauders shuddered, and began sliding into the walls.  BT shoved his hands between them, forcing them apart and shoving his chassis through.  The lens on his ocular hub narrowed.  
“Visual contact reestablished with Pilot.  Commencing support fire.  Danger close.”  
                His acolyte pods deployed, and missiles flew into a rappelling squad.  
“I am engaging hostile infantry.”  
                Jack ran on the wall, his knees threatening to break.  
_“Get to BT.”_  
“Kane, COME IN!”An angry shout came from an IMC Grunt on the ground, “There are Vanguard Titans in here with us!  We’re going to be slaughtered!” **  
**_“After this.”  
_                 Jack’s feet met the man’s back, and he pinned him to the ground.  
“What was it your buddy said?”  He pulled the Grunt’s pistol out of the holster, and aimed it at his head, “’Your Titan friend can’t save you?’”  
                A bullet fractured the back of the soldier’s helmet, and he grabbed extra ammunition clips before continuing.  
**“IMC security forces…”**   Kane sighed, **“I guess that’s why they pay me the big bucks.  You want something done right?  You do it yourself…Alright scrubs, enough’s enough, I’m coming down!”  
**                 A larger hatch opened in the ceiling, and the entire room seemed to hold its breath as an orange Titan fell through.  
                It was huge and rounded, with a gruesome, toothy smile painted over the cockpit.  
**“You were _not_ invited to Kane’s party…”**   Kane was holding a Militia soldier in his Titan’s hand, **“And that’s why you’re dead!”**  
                He squeezed, and bloody confetti sprang from his hand.  Red streaks ran between his Titan’s knuckles, and it turned his sickening face towards the rest of them.  
**“Let’s get this party started, scrubs!”  
  
**

 

…

 

                Sage narrowed her eyes at the taunting fool in front of her.  
**“Well, well, more runaway heroes!  With SRS Vanguard-class Titans…”**   Kane brought his Titan weapon to the front.  
                It was long, with chambers on the side and a peculiar barrel.  
“That’s…That’s a thermite launcher…”  
                She was upset.  Her words came as barely a whisper…  
“You bloody _fucking_ git!”  
                Until she lost her temper.  
“Pilot Talon, it appears the IMC has reverse-engineered our T-203 Termite Launcher VMK.  How shall we proceed?” ICE asked.  
“ _Melt_ him.”  
“Affirmative.  Thermal systems: Functional.  Cockpit cooling: Activated.”  
                ICE charged forward, the gunshots from the smaller Grunts on the battlefield clanking on his chassis.  He dashed to the right, dodging Kane’s thermite barrel.  He ignited it, but the flames failed to reach them.  
“If you’re going to copy my life’s work,” Sage countered with her own wall of flames, “At least use it _CORRECTLY!”_  
                It spiraled towards the enemy Scorch, leaving a scorching trail behind the red wall.  
                Kane clapped in the microphone, **“Woo!  Now we’re talking!  Bringing a knife to a knife fight…”  
                ** His grizzly Titan turned to her, and fired a grenade out of the chamber.  She melted it with ICE’s thermal shield, and kept going.  
**“I know you’re angry, but don’t overextend yourself,”** Akane warned, **“You’re pushing too far ahead.”  
** “He needs to be  _put down._ ”  
                3 pops boomed from the ceiling, and the domes of IMC Titans surrounded her.  
_“Damn it.”  
_**“Told you.”  
**                 An alert flashed on her HUD, and ICE’s deep, hungry voice filled the cockpit, “Multiple Titans attacking.  Tactical option: Incendiary Traps.”  
                Sage didn’t argue with him. She fired two barrels to either side of Kane, and lit them ablaze with well-placed shots.  
                Fire engulfed the domes, inflicting damage as soon as they fell.  The IMC Titans barely escaped before her flames ate the paint from their armor.  
“Outnumbered two-to-one.  Keep them in your sight to avoid flanking.”  
“To our right, ICE!”  
                The cockpit shuddered as the heavy Titan shifted, barely dodging a charged beam shot.  
**“Enemy Ion spotted.”** BT announced, **“Engaging hostile Titan.”  
**                 It was strange hearing him again, knowing Tai wasn’t his Pilot.  But the man who was…  
_“I won’t allow this Apex Prick to get him, too.”  
_                 ICE turned to Kane, who smiled at them with his ghastly nose art.  
**“Is _this_ the best the SRS has to offer?!”  
**                 She ignored the fights around her, tunnel focused on killing the imposter.  
“You haven’t seen a thing, you fucking TWAT!”

 

…

 

                Akane growled under her breath.  
“I tried to warn her…”  
“Be aware, Pilot.”  
                URI’s advice came as a soft growl, his murderous voice tinted with his signature accent.  Akane nulled her temper, taking in the sensory data fed to her.  
“Is that an enemy Ronin I see?”  
“That is correct.”  
                Her eyebrows pinched together, “There can only be _one_ …”  
                War raged around them, but their target was solidified.  
                The enemy drew his own, modified blade.  
“Pilot Control initiated…”  URI studied his opponent, waiting for Akane to make their first move, “Focus.  Plan.  Attack.”  
“Go.”  
                They charged the enemy Titan, Leadwall shotgun in hand.  
                Their first shot was blocked by the enemy’s sword, but with a swift dash to the left, they had them at their flank.  
“Too slow.” She pulled the trigger, and the Titan’s chassis was dented.  
                The hilt of the Ronin’s sword came down, and slammed against her cockpit.  
                Akane’s teeth clenched, and she found a red eye staring back at her.  
“Dispersing electric smoke,” She flipped the switch, and pressed the button, “Disengage.”  
                URI jumped backwards, his hand sliding on the ground to slow himself.  
                The enemy Ronin was stunted, and Akane took another shot.  Two shots.  Three shots.  
“Smart moves, Pilot.”  URI fired the last shot in his clip, “Reloading Leadwall.”  
                A Brute jumped above the electric cloud and hovered, sending a rocket barrage at them.  
“Our threat condition has grown…Multiple Titans attacking.  Do not lose sight of hostiles.”  
                Akane holstered their shotgun, and pulled her own Broadsword to their front, blocking the incoming rockets.  
“Grenier?!  COOPER?”  
**“ON IT!”** Chris answered, **“I got you!”**

 

…

 

 

                Chris looked to the top of his cockpit, “Cooper, you good?!”  
**“Yeah, yeah!  Go help her!”  
**                 A notification flickered on his HUD, “Friendly Pilot has detached.”  
                Jack ran against the wall, his figure shimmering in the heat of battle.  
**“Sage, coming to you!”**  
                He jumped at BT, and disappeared in his cockpit.  
_“Ballsy for a rookie Pilot.”  
_                 GZ turned towards the Brute raining missiles at Akane and URI, her rifle aimed, “Splitter rifle on target.”  
“Shoot ‘em, Gizzy!”  
                The shot knocked the flying Titan off balance, and he slammed into the wall.  
“HAH!”  
**“Nice shot, Grenier.”** Akane’s helmet shot up from the minimized window of his cockpit.  
Jack’s came up next, **“Grenier-watch-your-3-o’clo-“  
**                 A laser hit GZ’s shoulder, and she stumbled backwards.  
“Critical Damage: Advise cover.”  GZ sounded panicked.  
“Come on, girl.  We can’t let them do us like that.”  
                The cockpit flickered, the sensors damaged. GZ regained her balance, and her vortex shield deployed to catch the Brute’s suppressing fire.  
“Multiple Titans are engaging you.  I recommend targeting the closest enemy first.”  
“Grrr…Why can’t they just focus on the Titan in front-…”  
                Chris grinned, and aimed the caught ammunition at the approaching Ion.  
“’Closest enemy first,’ you say?”  
                The large shells pointed at his target, and covered the cockpit in a barrage of “fuck you.”  
“Yeah, how you like that?!”  Chris yelled.  
**“Keep talking, Pilot!”** The enemy shouted, **“Keep talking!”  
** “Take notes, BITCH!”  
                Chris pulled a lever above him, and dodged another laser.  
“Powering up primary weapon systems,” GZ was almost excited, “Splitter rifle on full spread.”  
                They shot a slew of amped shots at the Ion who couldn’t find cover in time to protect himself.  
**“Damn Militia!”  
** “That’s right,” Chris shouted, pushing up farther, “Don’t you fucking forget it!”  
**“SOMEONE GET THAT GODDAMN BRUTE!”** Akane hollered, **“For FUCK’s sake, I’m trying to concentrate!”  
“SOLID COPY!” ** Jack answered the call, and BT broke away from a literal fire-fight with Kane.

 

…

 

 

                Jack held the button and the Brute was covered in locked circles, and the rockets left trails in their wake as they flew.  They wound around the corner, hitting the Titan that tried to hover behind a column on the ceiling.  
                An arrow flashed on his HUD, pointing to the right.  
“Pilot, stay out of Kane’s thermite residue.  It causes heavy damage.”  
                BT stepped out of the trap they almost succumbed to.  The cockpit was hot, and a temperature warning made his eyes twitch.  He pulled on the collar of his jumpsuit, trying to air himself out.  
**“Leave him to me, Jack…”** Sage growled, and ICE punched forward with his large fists.  
                Kane jumped backwards, almost colliding with the injured Brute that hid behind him.  
**“Don’t even think about it!”** Kane shouted, his Scorch knock-off pushing the Brute forward, **“We’ve got work to do!”  
                ** Jack’s nose twitched, and he fired at the Brute who was now defenseless.  Leaving Sage to fight Kane alone wasn’t his preferred course of action, but with so many Titans in such a small space, he was out of options.  
**“Walk away, scrub, just walk away.  Only a matter of time before I rip you outta that cockpit, anyway.”  
** “WHO EVEN SAYS SCRUB ANYMORE?!” Jack yelled, firing at him with BT’s chaingun.  
**“FOCUS, COOPER!”** Akane shouted, dodging a swing from a Ronin’s blade, **“Get the Brute!”  
“You can keep fighting, but just know, Kane doesn’t let people die quickly!” **  
“Neither does Jack!”  
                BT fired a salvo of rockets, and the Brute’s exhaust vents flared.  
_“Did he just refer to himself in third person? …Did I just-”  
_                 The Brute charged him, and BT jumped out of the way.  
“I think it’s time we put him down, BT.”  
“Affirmative.”  
                Jack guided his metal arm, bringing down the stock of his chaingun on the Titan’s cockpit.  
**“AGHHH!”  
                ** The enemy Pilot screeched, and BT popped the cockpit’s door open with a punch.  His pronged hand gripped the IMC enemy, and ripped him from his bracers.  He held him high in the air behind his shoulder, not even bothering to look at him.  
**“NO-“  
**                 BT squeezed his hand, and the Pilot’s innards rained on his own Titan’s chassis.  
“Enemy Pilot down.”  
                He grabbed the handle of his chaingun, bringing his foot to the stumbling, flaming Brute in front of him. He kicked it, and it fell backwards before exploding.  
                Jack blinked.  Took in a sharp breath.  
“Jesus Christ, BT…”  
“What is the matter, Pilot?”  
“That was…I don’t even know.”  
“Legendary.  Tai would have called it legendary.”   
                Jack smiled to himself, “Yeah, he would have.”  
**“And he would’ve called _this,_ ‘brutal…’”**

**…**

 

 

                Akane sent an arc wave from URI’s sword, pushing the Ronin back from the close-range combat they found themselves locked in.  
“Sword Core, ready…” URI snarled, the activation lock blinking on his screen.  
                The Ronin tried to sweep their legs, and URI jumped to avoid being tripped.  
**“You think you’re clever, don’t you?”**   The Ronin’s sword crackled with electricity, **“I am _so_ going to enjoy taking that Titan away from you.”  
                ** Akane smirked, and pulled a trigger, “I dare you to try.”  
“Sword Core, activated.”  URI took the Broadsword from his back, it’s blade glistening from Sage’s fire, “The sword is yours, Pilot.”  
                The agonizing will to destroy in his voice made her skin prickle.  
**“Jesus Christ, BT…”**  
                And then Jack’s annoying radio chatter interrupted it.  
**“What is the matter, Pilot?”**  
**“That was…I don’t even know.”  
“Legendary.  Tai would have called it legendary.”**    
**“Yeah, he would have.”  
                ** The anger of her Captain’s murder was renewed.  Any joy in the fight was taken from her, and she locked on to the IMC Ronin kicking off the wall.  His Broadsword glimmered in the chaos, the light running edge to tip.  
“And he would’ve called _this,_ ‘brutal…’”  
                Akane raised URI’s sword, swinging it down.  
                The sharp blade caught between the enemy Ronin’s shoulder and cockpit, severing the limb with a screeching, metal whine.  Sparks only matched by URI’s electric blade flew from the mess of exposed wires, not stopping at a mere arm.  It cut the Titan, and getting stuck on its hip.  
                The disconnected chassis jerked backwards, and URI charged the lower half with his shoulder.  The force was strong enough to split it in two, crushing the enemy’s legs against the wall.  
“Hostile Pilot KIA.”  URI turned to the rest of them, his blade hovering just above the sludge pool, “Enemy Titan down…”

 

…

 

                A notification tore Chris’s focus away from the engaged Ion in front of him.  
“Incoming debris-“  
                He turned in time to see a chunk of Titan spiraling towards them.  
“What-“  
                The Ion fired a shot, and he grabbed the hurling Titan’s arm.  GZ swung it around, like a weapon of its own.  The cockpit collided with the Ion, and its own doors flew open.  
**“Hey, Grenier.  What’s better than one Broadsword?”** Akane cackled over sprinting Titan footsteps.  
                He aimed his rifle at the Pilot reaching for their eject button.  
“I dunno, _two_ Broa _-_ AH!”  
                URI landed in front of him, pouncing on the downed Ion like a Prowler on its prey.  A hilt took up both of his hands, each connected to a blade that cut into the opened cockpit underneath him.  
**“Two Broadswords.”  
**                 Chris tried not to be mad.  After all, it was pretty badass.  
“GODDAMN IT, MAYUMI!”  He slammed a fist on his dashboard, “That was _my_ kill!”  
                URI pulled each of his blades out of the metal corpse on the ground, **“Consider this payback for stealing _mine_ at Zone 18.”  
** “That was like, a year ago!”  
**“We Remember, Grenier.  A Pilot never forgets.”  
“Well, you two seemed to have _forgotten_ about the Apex Predator in the room!” ** Sage chided.  
                ICE’s vents opening to exhaust themselves while BT danced through pits of fire.  
_“Shit.  That’s not good.”_

 

…

 

                While the others had been engaging in their usual antics, Sage and Jack had been busy keeping one of Kuben Blisk’s mercenaries at bay.  
“Warning: Potential reactor overload.  Battery required.”  
                She bit her lip, swiping away a layer of sweat with the back of her hand.  It dripped from her eyelashes, and coated her neck.  
**“Incoming!”  
                ** A loud clank hit the top of her cockpit.  
“Friendly Pilot on the hull.”  
                The thick thermal plating on ICE allowed him to escape an incendiary trap laid by Kane, and she fired her own.  
“Jack?” Sage looked up, “What are you doing?”  
**“Giving you this battery that punched me in the nuts.”  
                ** An empty chamber warning flickered on her HUD, and the rest of them funneled power to the empty socket.  
“Are you mad?” She yelled at him, “There’s an Apex Predator out there!”  
Akane and Chris distracted Kane during ICE’s temporary disadvantage.  
**“We’ve got you covered!”  
                ** ICE’s shields came back online, and his systems were pushed from critical to below average.  
**“See?”** She heard him pat the top of ICE, **“All better.”  
** “Better than before, I suppose…” Sage snickered, “Now get back in BT before-“  
                An explosion interrupted her.  GZ was trapped, one of her arms stuck in Kane’s grip.  
**“GET OFF HER!”** Chris yelled, trying to break free.  
**“End of the line, scrub!”** Kane roared.  
**“Hardly.”** Akane sliced his arm off, URI wielding _two_ blades on his person.  
                BT charged, grabbing Kane’s Scorch by the shoulders and shoving him off.  
                Kane regained balanced, and launched a barrel at his feet.  
**“Go ahead, go ahead!  Kane can take a few hits…”** He let loose a maniacal laugh, **“I can keep going _all_ day, and _ALL NIGHT!_ But you…” **He shot the barrel, and BT was surrounded by fire, **“ _You_ gotta sleep sometime!”**

 

…

 

                  Jack didn’t think.  He was getting too good at that.  Although, maybe wall-running in the middle of a Titan firefight was a good time to start.  
                BT was in danger, and he wasn’t there to defend him.  
_“No, no, no-“  
_                 He hit his cloak, and jumped through the air.  
_“Get in the cockpit? Distract Kane?”  
                _ He kicked off the rounded top of a column, and adjusted his course. _  
“Give him the battery?”  
_                 The battery he’d just given ICE.  
_“Get another battery.”  
                _ A laser shot whistled by him, the edges burning off the hairs of his arm.  
**“Cooper!  What the fuck, man?!”** Chris shouted, **“I almost-“  
**                 Kane pushed his thermal shield closer to GZ, and Sage jumped in front.  
**“ENOUGH!”** Kane’s Scorch made a fist with his remaining hand.  
                The vents on his back roared to life, shooting pillars of flames around his battery well…  
                Jack’s target.  
**“GET BACK!”** Sage hollered, and the Marauders scattered.  
                The bars were hot against his flesh-and-bone hands.  The fire sizzled next to him, coating him with sweat and singeing his jumpsuit.  
                Jack clung to Kane’s battery cover, his body jostled from slamming against the armor.  
_“Definitely should have thought this through.”  
_                 He swung himself around, arms shaking as he pulled himself up.  He’d almost missed.  
                Again.  
_“Need to work on that.”  
_                 His feet met the top of Kane’s Titan, and he positioned himself so his body faced away from the opened vents.  
**“No.  NO.  NO!”** Kane roared, his Flame Core interrupted by the flailing Titan hand that threatened to grab him, **“It’s over when Kane says it’s over!”  
**                 The Scorch bucked and twisted, nearly tossing Jack into the rolling waves of waste underneath them.  He gulped, holding on to the battery cover for dear life.  
                His reactor was exposed.  The battery became dislodged.  
**“NO!”  
**                 Jack ripped it from it’s cannister, and blindly jumped backwards.  
                A sword ripped through the Scorch’s chassis, pinning it in place.  A barrel ignited underneath him, trapping him in a pit of fire.  A laser made contact with his stomach, reducing Kane’s platted armor to slag before melting a hole straight through it’s core.  
                And Jack was still falling.  
“Cooper!”  
                BT caught him, and hoisted his dangling body onto his metal shoulder.  
“Well done, Pilot.”  
                His hub turned towards him, and he couldn’t do much but just sit there.  
                Sit there with another fucking Titan battery between his legs.  
**“We did it…”** GZ’s cockpit opened, and Chris stood from his chair, **“WE FUCKING DID IT!”  
“Of course we did.”  ** Akane mounted her Broadsword on URI’s back, opening her own cockpit and stretching. **  
** Chris raised his fists, and jumped in place.  He brought one down, punching and kicking the air, **“GET FUCKED, APEX ASSHOLE!”  
“My headache is far too severe for that type of yelling on the comms…” ** Sage draped herself over the cockpit’s edge, helmet off, panting for breath.  
                Jack gulped, shaking himself out of the daze he found himself in.  He took off his own helmet, slick and hot with sweat.  
_“We did it.”  
_                 A sigh of relief hit him, and he looked down to BT.  
_“Swap the battery.”  
_                 Input command received.  
                His aching body twisted, and he climbed behind his friend.  He pulled out a sparking battery, and carelessly tossed it to the slush below.  
“Thank you, Pilot Cooper.” BT all but whispered.  
“Mhm…” Jack shoved the battery in the cannister and twisted it, just like he had when they were first united, “I’m still mad at you, for the record.”  
“…Noted.”  
                A sharp screech came from Kane’s flaming cockpit.  
**“Gamma Six to K..e – A group of M…tia soldiers and a Pilot are b…king through the facility, over!”  
**                 Jack cocked his head, and BT turned to the deceased Titan.  The others were too busy celebrating to notice.  
“It appears Kane’s helmet radio is still intact.”  BT’s light flickered with his voice, “We should retrieve it.”  
“Yeah.  We should.”  
                BT knelt to the cockpit, and ripped the door open.  He plucked the singed body from the frayed straps, smoking and smelling of death.  
“Ugh-“ Jack coughed and waved the air away from the front of his face, “Disgusting.”  
**“Kane!  We need reinforcements in the tunnels!  Kane, how copy, over?”  
“Come in, Kane!”  
“Kane!  Do you read?!  Our ground squads are down!”  
                ** BT dangled Kane’s body in front of him, his radio relays leaking from the side of his helmet.  
“Sounds like Miller and the others are giving them a run for their money.”  
                Jack reached his hands out, and cupped them around Kane’s head.  He gave the helmet a tug, and BT pulled.  It slipped off, and BT tossed him into the sludge.  
                Jack chuckled, and flipped the helmet in his hands.  A message was etched on the front:  
_“EVOLVE OR DIE.”  
_                 He rolled his eyes.  
_“Is that a pun for Apex Predators or something?”  
_                 The radio was a small circle attached to the side.  It came off relatively easy, and he just _looked_ at it.  
“Attach it to yours, Pilot.  There is an empty slot to your right.”  
                Jack nodded, and plugged it in.  The magnets secured it to his head, and an influx of data scrolled through his HUD:  
  
“SRS Helmet OS V18.723X  
SIGINT DEVICE DETECTED…”  
  
**“Whoa,”** Chris turned to him **“Jack, what did you find?”  
** “Kane’s radio.”  
**“Hm.  Which one of us is going to hang on to that bad boy?”** Akane asked.  
“Me.  I’m keeping it…Because while you guys regroup with Captain Cole,” Jack stood on BT’s shoulder, and fell into his cockpit, “I’ll be looking for Anderson.”  
  
“IMC RADIO FOUND.  
DECRYPTING IMC PROTOCOLS…”  
  
**“You’re _what?”_**   Sage argued in protest, **“That’s suicide.”**  
“Maybe.  But BT and I will be harder to detect if we move by ourselves.  If dad was ordered on a Lone Wolf op…I can do it, too.”  
**“Look, Coop, no offense, but Captain Lasti had a lot more experience than you.”**   Chris tried to be gentle in his doubts.  
                Jack looked behind him, “He trusted me with BT.  He knew what came with that.  If he didn’t think I could do it…he wouldn’t have.”  
“The ability to decrypt enemy communications has a strong history in warfare.  This will work to our advantage.”  BT reinforced his position.  
**“But-“**  
                Jack held up his finger to silence the group before Chris could argue.

“DECRYPTING IMC PROTOCOLS – OK  
INTERCEPTING IMC SIGNALS…  
INTERCEPTING TRANSMISSION…”  
  
                The man he hated most showed on his HUD, outlined in red.  
                A pale face with sharp, black angles for eyebrows.  A cropped haircut and a shallow, blonde beard.  
                And a Cibus accent that ground his last remaining sanity to dust.  
**“Slone.  This is Blisk.  The IMC have almost sealed the Ark.  It’s time to prepare the Draconis.”**  
                Another face replaced his.  Delicate, with hair similar to Liera’s.  But her eyes were sunken with black circles underneath them.  She had the eyes of a killer.  
**“Copy.  Got myself three captured Militia.  What shall I do with them?”  
                ** And the same, shitty accent.  
_“This is the same woman who ordered the salvage ship to recover BT at the crash site…”  
_                 Blisk returned, **“Ack, just kill ‘em.”  
****“No…don’t!”** A man screamed in the background.  
                One he’d only heard a few times.  Just enough to care.  
                Slone shot once.  Then twice.  Three times.  
**“I’m on my way.  Slone out.”  
                ** The transmission ended.  
                Jack trembled.  
**“You don’t think that was Miller, and…”** Sage paused, **“Jack?”  
**                 Her opened cockpit was aimed at him.  
                His chin sunk to his chest.  His arms squeezed Kane’s helmet, wanting to crush it in his grasp.  
“That was…That was Lasky.”  He took a sharp breath, and it shuddered down to his stomach, “Allen Lasky. and…”  
                The other two he hadn’t saved.  
                Troy O’Connor.  Mike Nelson.  Unsung heroes that had served in the shadows.  Survived against countless odds.  Made it off Demeter.  
                His friends.  
                Killed in action.  Dead.  He was pretty sure, now.  
                The switch in his head malfunctioned. It jammed upright and refused to budge.  
**“I’m…I’m sorry we didn’t make it in time.”** Akane whispered.  
“Why?” His eyes stung as he lifted his chin, bouncing the helmet off the edge of the cockpit and sending it over, “They were just ‘a couple of RIFLEMEN!’”  
                His muscles flexed, and his shoulders tensed.  He looked away from the Titan on approach, wishing he could just disappear.  
“Jack…” Sage reached out, and he shied away.  
                A boot clanked against the opened ledge of BT’s cockpit.  
                Small arms enveloped him, and Sage’s head pressed on his chest.  
“You did everything you could.”  
               He swallowed hard, and wrapped his arms around her waist.  His knees buckled, and the two of them fell in his cockpit’s chair.  
“Hey,” She tapped the side of his helmet, and his visor opened, “Look at me.”  
                He tried to suck the tears that threatened to spill back into eyes that weren’t used to making them.  
                It didn’t work.  
“I need you to make it out of this alive.”  She cupped his cheek, and her thumb brushed just under his eyelids, “Do you understand me?”  
                He put his hand over hers, and gave her a soft nod.  
“I don’t mean not dying.” She pressed her finger into his heart, “I mean _you_.  Jack Freeman Cooper.  Don’t let them turn you into what they are.”  
“Y-yeah…” His voice broke, and he hated himself for it, “You do the same.”  
“Count on it.” She smiled at him.  
                Her singed lips found his.  And she was gone much too soon.  
                She stole the air from him as she returned to her cockpit, her emotions getting the better of her before ICE shielded her from exposure.  
“Stay safe out there, Pilots…” Jack muttered, closing his own doors.  
                The panels popped into place.  
**“You too, Marauder.”  
                ** Jack froze, and perked up.  
                Akane dialed her cockpit closed, and her Ronin stared back at him, **“We’ll regroup with Miller and get the others to Cole.”  
**                 He cleared his throat, “I…Thank you.”  
**“Give ‘em hell, Coop…”** Chris waved before taking a seat.  
                Jack’s hands twitched on his armrests.  
“Don’t worry…”  
                The Apex Predators took Tai.  His two best friends.  A new prospect that hadn’t lived long enough to know what he signed up for was stupid.  
                But they wouldn’t take _him_.  
“I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Behind the Scenes:**  
>     
> [Blood and Rust Concept Art 1](https://joshdunnam.artstation.com/projects/e9AvG)  
>   
> [Blood and Rust Concept Art 2](https://www.artstation.com/artwork/gxRkE)  
>   
> [Blood and Rust on YouTube ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r3N3fk27NGI)  
>   
> Jack's "Once More," quote inspired by [this poem](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/56972/speech-once-more-unto-the-breach-dear-friends-once-more) by William Shakespeare.  
>   
>  **Author's Notes:**  
>   
> [MjrGenMatt.](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/6318482/d) Pilot Frank. You've read this beast of a chapter more than once. You walked me through every step of the way. You made brilliant suggests that brought this piece of the story more alive than I could have on my own. You are truly wonderful, and I can't wait to get yelled at for writing this message to you.  
>   
>  Special shout out to [ElegantN7,](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ElegantN7) for partaking in our various shenanigans. "The sword is yours, Pilot."  
>   
>  **Dear Reader,**  
>   
>  Thank you for being patient with me during this long wait. Jack's chapters will be longer from this point forward, and I hope the change in format sat well with you. As always, I love you with all my heart, and thank you for sticking around.  
>   
> P.S. Formatting was very strange for this much content. Please feel free to point out any errors. :)


	28. When Freedom Calls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"She had not known the weight, until she felt the freedom."_  
>  -Nathaniel Hawthorne

* * *

* * *

**PILOT’S_LOG_L.LASTI_WASTELAND_ORDER_002**

  
Date: 7 September 2287  
Location: Sanctuary _,_ Planet Earth  
Age: 24  
Occupation: Combat Intel Specialist, SRS  
Assigned Squadron: Marauders Corps; Brotherhood of Steel Recon Squad Gladius  
Mission Status: Ongoing, as of 06/07/2287 @ 0600 hours, Earth Standard  
Misc. Notes: 1-week post deployment

Callsign Maverick reporting; 120 hours into Command radio silence. 

I received the distress beacon originating from the _MCS James MacAllan_ , though I was unable to respond.  Kuben Blisk made contact shortly after.  He is either employed by the IMC or has been accepted back into their ranks.  Referral to known collaborates, “Apex Predators,” suggests employment.

Our alliance with native Brotherhood of Steel faction remains intact.  However, I believe my previous notion of them being the local military to be false.  They do not operate under any governing power.

Parameter 6 compromised on two occasions as Brotherhood infrastructure assets were damaged.  Collateral damage accumulated. Responsibility unclaimed.

I am currently following a lead that is imperative to finding what the IMC are after on Planet Earth, although circumstantial evidence in relation to Major Anderson dictates this mission may be more complicated than any of us thought.

Against standard field op protocol, I entered a time rift underneath an abandoned IMC facility known as Fort Strong.  My questions about this operation start there.

Like how in the actual _fuck_ all of you thought it was appropriate to _not_ tell Jack who his parents really are.  How Anderson somehow contacted the founder of the IMC, Eric Hammond, through _time_.  Or what Operation: Persephone was, or _anything_ about the man who acted as a sleeper agent for the Militia during the Demeter Campaign, Nathan Black.

Yeah, I have questions.  And since you aren’t around to give me any answers, I’ll be finding my own; sanctioned or not.

We Remember…

Maverick out.

**[Encrypted Archive data attached]**

* * *

                aybreak tugged at the sky with icy-blue fingers, overshadowing the clouds with its knuckles.  Much like the night itself, Liera found herself waiting between worlds; ready for reality to pull her back.  
                The agony of realization seemed endless.  Nathan’s Pilot Log was stuck in a loop in her mind.  The effluence in his voice, the rage Nora held behind the cryopod’s door…  
                Every detail ticked like seconds on a clock.  
                She waited for the alarm to sound.  The wakeup call to snap the fuck out of it and find some ground.  So she pulled her nebulizer over her face, and decided to sleep it off; for the next time she would wake, she was determined to move on.  
_“If it’s dark when you go to bed and dark when you wake up, you didn’t sleep long enough.”  
_                 She smiled to herself.  It was something Jack used to say.  
                Jack, who wasn’t her brother by blood, not that it ever mattered, but was indeed her _cousin._  
_“I guess that’s the silver lining in all this.”  
_                  The most bothersome part of this ruse was that she _understood._   She knew exactly why no one told her, or Jack, about who his parents are.  It was the same reason she hadn’t told Danse about Evelyn.  It would’ve made things unnecessarily complicated.  
                It was irrelevant.  
_“Was…_ Was _, irrelevant.”_  
                She rolled on her side, resting in the reclined cockpit chair.  
                It was too early to be awake.  
                Too early to think about what she and EV had been through in the last week.  Too early to record a Pilot’s Log that couldn’t physically reflect how _pissed off_ she was, whether or not she understood why the SRS hid the truth.  Too early to worry about the investigation they’d just cracked wide open.  
_“I need to tell him before he finds out on his own…”_  
                No, Liera hadn’t been awake long enough to think about the conversation between her and Danse after she finally told him who her mother was.  
_“…And it’s too early to figure out how.”_

 

…

 

                Danse didn’t welcome the sun coming through the glassless window.  Sleeping in a bed roll was never his first choice, and his back agreed with him.  Still, he’d tried to fall back asleep.  The holotape sitting on his pile of gear wouldn’t let him.   
                A square piece of plastic that resembled so many more he’d seen in his lifetime.  What used to be just another item of clutter on his desk, or another document to comb over for work, had turned into a gateway into another world.  A recollection of war stories during conflicts he couldn’t even fathom.  
                He was fixated on it.  Wanted to know what the next clue was.  It felt like solving this mystery was just as much his job as it was _her’s.  
                _ His brows pinched, thinking back to the night before.  What they’d learned, and how Liera had barely said a word on the way back from Vault 111.  How she couldn’t so much as look at him before sulking across the bridge to join EV.  
_“I’m way too involved in this…”  
_                 He groaned as he unfolded the flap that served as his blanket, sitting up and running his hands over his face.  He rose to his feet from the hard floor, his joints cracking and stinging.  
                Haylen and Rhys were still asleep, far enough from the door where he could leave without waking them.  
                Nora’s door.  
                The woman who told them a _very_ different tale about how her son went missing than what happened, blaming the Institute rather than her “deceased,” husband.  The woman who was sleeping with _Elder Maxson._  
_“I haven’t told Liera about that, yet.”  
_                 Part of it was timing.  The other was fear that she’d leave.  
                Nora had already marked herself hostile towards her when they’d first met.  She made it known she thought very little of the Militia.  To know that she was in bed with the man who gave Liera her orders…  
                If he was in her shoes, he’d probably run.  
_“She’s leaving eventually, regardless of how or when.  She might as well have the whole story when she does.”  
                _ Thinking about the day where he’d have to say goodbye made him irrationally upset.  
                He hadn’t known her that long.  Still, they’d shared things with each other that he’d kept to himself for the sake of the others.  
                Something about her felt welcoming.  Understanding.  
_“And I’ll miss her when she’s gone.”_

 

…

 

                The rising sun cast the lands bronze, encasing them in metal tones and hues.  A creature rustled in a bush, hopping along the carpet of dead, itchy grass.  The stream that circled Sanctuary and divided it from the rest of the Commonwealth rippled as a calm breeze brushed the surface.  
                Liera sat on the edge of EV’s railgun, her reflection wobbling on her prosthetic arm as she twisted on a silencer.  She squinted, holding her wrist up to her face.  
                The black notes under her eyes told a story of another sleepless night.  
                An overhead chirp ripped her away from self-pity, and she got back to modifying her spare pistol; a fully-automatic RE-45 kept hidden for covert ops.  It’d served her well in downing targets she couldn’t squeeze lifeless with her prosthetic, and she hoped it would do so again.  
                EV’s ocular hub blinked.  Liera smiled, looking over her shoulder.  
“Gooday, EV.” She jammed the pistol in her ankle holster and adjusted the elastic band around her waist.  
“Good morning, Pilot Lastimosa.  Would you like to hear the forecast?”  
                She dug her knuckles in her back, arching forward to stretch, “Sure.”  
“It is currently 7:10am, Monday, September 7th, 2287.  Weather report:  18 degrees Celsius.  Mostly cloudy with 0% chance for precipitation.  54% humidity with 24 kph winds.”  
                She smirked, “Just another beautiful day in the Commonwealth…”  
                Her dogtags rattled as she jumped, landing next to a white towel and bottle of water.  
“Wanna do me a favor and lower that railgun?”  
                EV’s lens pointed at her, “Do I require unknown maintenance?”  
                She complied, lowering her gun to Liera’s height.  
                Liera pulled her tank top over her shoulders, and slipped her hands through her favorite pair of fingerless shooting gloves.  
“Nope.”

 

…

 

                Danse wasn’t really sure what he was watching.  Or rather, he wasn’t sure _why_ it was happening.  
“Twenty…Twenty-one…”  
                Liera had her hands curled around a low-hanging bar below EV’s railgun with her back facing him.  She had her ankles crossed, and she counted off every time she pulled herself up.  
_“She’s doing pull-ups on a Titan gun.”  
_                 Her skin was slick with sweat, contouring every caramel muscle on her _exposed_ body.  
“Twenty-five…”  
                Her prosthetics shimmered in the light.  Her waist was lined by the edge of the cotton shorts she wore under her jumpsuit.  
“Thirty.”  
                She pulled herself straight up, and curled in a ball before the bend of her knees caught the bar, replacing her hands.  
“Oh, hey.”  Liera waved, hanging upside down.  
                She laced her fingers behind her head, her holotags dangling under them.  
“Morning, soldier.”  
                Her stomach tightened, and she tapped her knees with her elbows.  
_“She’s doing…inverted…sit-ups on a Titan gun.”  
_                 Her thighs were marked with strong lines, straining as she crunched.  Her abdomen flexed and relaxed, rolling the muscles caught between her prominent hips and chest.  The plunging hemline of her bra framed a deep shadow between her-  
                He cleared his throat, tearing his eyes away.  
“What’s up?”  
                Still reluctant to look at her, he kept his focus aimed at the sky.  
“I came to talk to you about something.”  
                She’d stopped counting, but kept her exercise going all the same, “Yeah, we have a few things to talk about, alrig-“  
“Pilot, 254 degrees, North-Northwest.”  
“Copy that.”  
                Liera responded to EV’s coordinates in one fluid, automatic motion.  She hung from the bar and pulled her pistol from a holster on her ankle.  She took aim, _still upside down_ , squinting one eye.  
“Watch the birdie!”  
                A muted bullet flew, connecting with a bird overhead.  It squawked and was reduced to an explosion of feathers before plummeting.  
                Danse looked it, bleeding and dead at his feet.  
“Care to expl-”  
“240 degrees, North-Northwest.” EV interrupted him.  
                Liera responded with another quiet shot, intercepting a bird before it could land.  
                Danse walked up to her, putting his hand on her gun and moving it to the side.  
“Hello?  Earth to Liera?”  
                A mischievous grin stretched across her face, curving her lips that dangled just out of reach, “Is that supposed to be some rendition of Rhys’s alien jokes?”  
“No, it’s…It’s just a saying.”  
                 He lowered his distracted gaze from her chest to her face that hung at eye level.  He swore she was about to call him out on it before her hand rose at her side, one finger pointed.  
“Boop.” She tapped the tip of his nose.  
                It scrunched, and he shook his head rapidly, “What was that for?”  
“I dunno.” She shrugged, “Can you move?  I’ve got a bird to shoot.”  
“Tell me why you’re shooting birds?”  
“Because they might not _just_ be birds,” Her prosthetic hooked on his shoulder, moving him to the side.  
                She led a shot, firing the pistol with one hand, “They might be _Synth_ birds.”  
“Uhm… _What?”_  
                Liera returned her pistol to the holster, and continued her exercise.  
“You know that…” She did a sit-up, “Guy at Bunker Hill?”  
“The one that gave you the holotape?”  
“Ye…yeah.”  
                Danse rolled his eyes, and grabbed _her_ shoulder this time, “Can you just hold on for a second?”  
                She remained suspended, her face a breath away.  That little grin of hers came back.  
                His cheeks got hot, and he forced a step backwards, “What about him?”  
“He told me that the Institute’s Synths aren’t limited to humans.” Liera reached for the bar, and unhooked her legs.  
                She landed in front of him, crouching to pick up a Militia-branded hand towel.  
“Said there’re Synth birds named Watchers that ‘report back to the mother ship.  Or wherever the Institute’s hiding.”  
                She wiped her face and slung it over her shoulder, unscrewing a cap from a bottle and gulping water.  
“Want some?”  
                How she could so _casually_ inform him of Synth birds being a thing was lost upon him.  
“How is that even possible?”  
                She put her hand on her hip, and leaned on one leg, “Don’t know.”  
“Can EV tell which birds are real and which ones aren’t?”  
“No.”  
“So you’re just killing every bird you see?”  
“Yes.”  She shook the bottle at him.  
                He took a deep breath, and accepted it graciously, “Thanks.”  
“Yep.”  
                The water was surprisingly cold, and felt good running down his throat.  
“How many of these bottles do you have, anyway?”  
                He jumped as she fired her pistol, killing another bird.  
“Months’ worth.” She frowned, “Wasn’t supposed to be here for more than 30 days, but…”  
                There was a crack in the façade she built, but she quickly mended it.  
“Synth birds, huh…”  He changed the topic.  
                He didn’t want to talk about her leaving, either.  
“You didn’t think it was appropriate to tell me?”  
                It wasn’t so much as a question as it was him thinking out loud.  
                Liera grunted, looking at her helmet next to EV.  She stared at it for a minute before answering.  
“I…I was waiting for the right time.”  
                Danse passed the water back to her, and she took a seat on EV’s foot.  He sat next to her, clasping his hands between his lap.  
“Can’t wait to tell Quinlan about _this_ one…”

 

…

 

                Having him to herself was a nice change of pace.  There wasn’t anyone shooting at them; they were near a friendly settlement and protected by EV.  The view was peaceful, aside from the death that served as a constant reminder that the world had survived nuclear fallout.  
                However, whether her companionship with the man sitting next to her would survive the inbound-bomb-drop was to be determined.  
“Speaking of the right time…”  Liera rubbed the back of her neck, “I, uh…”  
                Danse patted his pocket.  
“I brought this with me, if that’s what you’re getting at.”  
                A nervous smile curled her lips, and she put her palm on top of it.  She pushed down, pinning the holotape between their hands.  
“I’d like to go first in the exchanges of ‘somethings’ we need to tell each other.”  
                She lifted her chin, only meeting his eyes for a second before lowering it again.  
“What’s wrong?”  His voice was low and gentle, and it made the words harder to come.  
“I…” She sighed deep, and pulled her hands back into her lap, “I…My-“  
“Liera.” He leaned forward, resting his hand in the space between them, “Speak your mind.  I promise not to judge.”  
“Do you remember when I left the time rift?” She gulped, finding the courage to look up at him, “You asked me a question, and I never gave you an answer.”  
                His brows pinched in the middle, staring off to the side as if trying to remember.  
“You asked me if I knew Nora’s sister…Evelyn.”  
                His features perked at the reminder, “Yes.”  
“I…I know her.  Knew her…Well, knew _of_ her.  We technically never met, I don’t think…”  
                Liera clammed up, sliding her hands up her arms.  She tried to relax and null the tremors of anxiety that had her shaking.  Danse laid his palm over her shoulder, turning her to face him.  
                He seemed less caring than before as if he was set on an interrogation rather than counseling.  
“Who is she?”  A tinge of hunger clung to his question, starving and ready to be satiated. _  
_                 She hesitated, regretting ever bringing it up.  
_“He probably wasn’t ever going to find out, why did you-“_  
                The strap holding her glove popped around her prosthetic hand.  Her fists shook in her lap, tight and lodged between her knees.  She tried to hold her composure, but realizing she could lose the last person who was able to get her out of this period of radio silence _alive_ was something she could’ve lived without.  
“Who is she, Liera?”  
                But this wasn’t just about being honest with Danse.  In order to move forward with this mystery, maybe she needed to finally put the speculations to rest.  To acknowledge that what she found was the concrete evidence that would cement the last slab of doubt.  
“My mother…and everything I’ve been told about her was a lie.”

 

…

 

                The gurgling water and swaying brush on its banks followed her declaration.  Danse dragged his hands down his face, trying to wrangle in what she just told him.  
                He pushed himself up, his feet crunching on the dead grass.  
“Is this how you felt when you found out about Jack and Nora?”  
                He kept his focus on the water, knowing if he looked at her he’d lose his firmness.  
“Probably.”  
                The meekness in her agreeance shook his resolve, and he turned to her.  She looked sad and regretful and-  
                He sighed, the anger in his chest slipping through a newly-formed leak.  
“When I first heard her name, I wasn’t sure if the same Evelyn Hammond that Nora and Nathan kept referring to was the same person as Evelyn Lastimosa…”  She was mumbling, staring at her boots, “Apparently, it took a mountain of subtle hints and references for me to figure it out.  What we saw in Vault 111 taught me a lot about my family…”  
                Danse pinched his temple, “Can you…can you explain how that’s possible?  How is Evelyn Hammond your mother?”  
                She blinked as she raised her chin, her chest rising and falling with a deep inhale.  
“When I first became a Pilot, my father told me the only way he could answer any questions about her was to join the SRS.  So I did.” She rubbed her arm, “There were still a lot of black lines and inaccessible data, and I got in trouble for digging, but…Eventually, I found something.  A biolab on an exoplanet near Harmony.  The Marauders and I went rogue after a mission to investigate.”  
                She huffed, “And we all got in pretty deep shit for it…”  
“What did you find?”  
                Liera choked down the slight smile that had surfaced, “Old cryotech.  Busted servers that had been wiped clean.  Grenier picked up traces of SRS software, so we confirmed that the site had been a target of interest before.  I never found out what the place was, but all her records start _there._   Tai didn’t have a choice but to tell me who she was after that.”  
“You’re saying she put herself in cryosleep?”  
“Yeah.  After hearing what Garrison had to say I think she stole the tech from Typhon.  I don’t know who she was working with.  I don’t know why she wouldn’t have told us that Typhon existed, or if the SRS knew and didn’t do anything about it until now for whatever reason.  I don’t know how she met my father.  I don’t know _anything_ , except that she came from the Hammond bloodline, she developed the software the Vanguards use, and anything else that involves her history is locked up tight.”  She stood up, and looked at him pleadingly, “But what I’ve learned is that she was _there_ …She was one of the Original Colonists.  She was in Angel City back before it was even _called_ Angel City.  And just like Eric, Nora, Nathan, Marder, _Jack_ …and only God knows who else…she traveled through time using cryosleep.”  
                Danse’s jaw locked, and he clamped his eyes shut.   His knuckles dug in his hips, and he shook his head.  
                All of this was getting out of hand.  There was one plot twist after another, throwing off every scent trail and lead they’d find.  Sure, this information would’ve been nice to know, earlier.  But would it have helped?  Was her telling him this, now, better than being up front with him before?  
_“Although, if she’s not lying, she didn’t know beforehand…”  
_                 She knew her mother was a Hammond, though.  
_“And it would’ve been irrelevant if she was actually a distant relative separated by 200 years…”  
_                 But she wasn’t.  She was Nora’s sister.  
                At least, unlike her…aunt…Liera told him what she’d pieced together during their investigation into Nathan Black.  That was worth something.  
“Okay.”  
                He barked the word, opening his eyes to a surprised Liera.  
“…Okay?  That’s it?”  
“That’s it.”  
                She cocked her head, her face twisting in confusion.  
“No yelling?”  
“No.  No yelling.”  He crossed his arms, “And while we’re throwing everything on the table, now’s as good a time as any to inform you that Maxson and Nora are sleeping together.”  
                Liera’s neck snapped back, her face stuck between a laugh and being appalled.  
“That is…that is _so_ not as heavy as what I just told you.”  
“Maybe not to _you_ …”  He frowned, “’What you just told me,’ hasn’t been the weirdest thing to come out of your mouth.”  
                She rolled her eyes, looking back to EV.  
“Hah.  Knew it.  Suck it, Rhys…”  
“What was that?”  
“Nothing.” She looked back to him, “How’d you find that out?”  
“He told me.  Said she promised to deliver him an heir if he helps her find her son.”  
                Liera chuckled, shaking her head, “Well…they’re gonna have a real hard time finding him while he’s on the other end of the universe.”  
“Good.” He leaned his back against a tree, “The longer we can keep her from reproducing, the _better_ …”  
“Hey,” She snapped, “Watch it.”  
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply that Jack was…uh-“  
“He’s a good person.  Better than most…” Her fists tightened, and she turned her chin to EV, “Oh, and remind me to wring Barker’s _neck_ the next time we see him.  Secret-mongering bastard…”  
“Reminder set.” EV confirmed.  
                Danse raised a brow, surprised EV agreed to the request.  He uncurled his hand, looking at the holotape still resting between his fingers.  
“This log was labeled, ‘Get Barker.’” He handed it to her, “Might have some more information on your elusive friend.”  
“We should listen to it before heading back into Sanctuary.”  
                There it was.  That hunger for knowledge in her voice.  The will to keep digging she kept at bay with humor.  He was happy to see the news about Jack hadn’t scared her away from the truth.  That, and the “agreement,” between Maxson and Nora.  
“’Probably.’” He smiled as he mimicked her.  
                She pursed her lips, passing the holotape to EV.  
                He pushed off the tree to stretch his back, “Hopefully Nathan can’t blindside us more than he already has.”  
                A dark laugh escaped her, “Somehow, I doubt that’s the case…EV, you know the drill.”  
“Affirmative.  Commencing playback.”

 

********

 

"I hear you had to do some minor repair work on Spyglass last night."  
"I think he knows my name now..."  
"Well, that makes _one_ person other than Blisk and Graves…" Nathan huffed.

**“Attention all forces.  This is Vice Admiral Graves.  We have confirmed that the traitor MacAllan, has joined forces with the Militia’s First Fleet.  I know this man, and I know how his mind works.  He will attempt to make contact with a retired IMC officer named Barker, last seen in Angel City.  Our operatives are tracking Barker within the City as we speak.**

**If MacAllan _does_ make contact, we can expect heavy firepower to support him.  Your assignment is to eliminate all Militia forces who stand with him.  **

**Prepare for combat.”  
  
**

                Their walking echoed off metal walls, their footsteps heavy.  
"Great…” A soldier sighed, “Why do you think the Militia want this Barker guy?"  
"He's ex-IMC, too. He didn't leave though, he was kicked out for being a drunk."  
"Well, cheers to hoping one of the civilians turns him in."  
"Why would they do that? He's a hero to those people!"  
"Money. I would."  
"That doesn't surprise me."  
"We eligible for the bounty if we kill one of those AWOL bastards?"  
                Nathan chuckled, "You know they don't _actually_ pay the bounties, right?"  
"What?!"  
"Yeah, they don't pay. Who's gonna make 'em?"  
“Not me.  Graves was the Angel City shooting champion a long time ago."  
"Yeah, I don't think I've seen that guy miss a shot on the _Sentinel's_ firing range!"  
"I bet I could take him."  
“Shut… _UP._ ” Nathan groaned.

 

\---

 

  
                Jets nulled the silence, filling the microphone with white noise.  Soldiers chatted amongst themselves, dotted with sounds of preparation.  Velcro straps.  Loading guns.  
                …Laughter.  
"That angel statue was a symbol of peace that watched over the city."  
"Now that's _our_ job."  
"If the Militia destroys this place, I'm gonna be pissed off."  
"You haven't been pissed off this whole time?"  
"I have! Angel City's just a little too close to home."  
"I hate urban combat. Too many snipers and blind corners to deal with."  
"Yeah, we don't want this to turn into another Hammond's Gate!"  
                Everything ground to a halt when a hatch opened. A unified clap filled the cabin as the rows of soldiers saluted what sounded like someone angrily marching.  
“Our search parties are getting wiped out down there.”  Graves opened the bay door, and wind ripped over his voice, “Your mission is to eliminate enemy forces interfering with the search.”  
  
**“In position.  Ground forces, prepare to disembark.”** Spyglass followed.  
  
“Do _not_ let them find Barker before you do.”  
“SIR YES SIR!” The men shouted, Nathan included.  
                A seatbelt retracted.  Knees bumped into one another, and gloves slid down deployment lines.  And then boots hit the ground.  
“Pilot!” Someone shouted as they approached, “We’ve cleared districts 10 and…”  
“GET DOWN!” Nathan yelled, and a loud thump muffled the recording.  
                There was an explosion.  Sliding metal that crashed into something else.  Fire crackled, and beams waned over the heat.  
“As you were saying?!” Nathan patted either himself or the soldier down.  
“Districts 10 and 11 have been cleared!  No sign of Barker or MacAllan!  
“Then they must be here!  Keep looking!”  Nathan growled, “Theta-6!  Move out!”

 

\---

 

  
"Take a long look at the faces on those Most Wanted signs. Lock 'em in memory."  
"Yeah, especially that Lastimosa. What the hell is he smiling about, anyway?"  
"Don’t know.  But you know what _is_ funny? We have over fifty jail cells on the _Amazon_."  
"Why's that funny?"  Nathan asked.  
"I've never heard of the IMC taking prisoners."

**"Unit 34-14, ready for Barker intercept, moving out!"**

**  
"Push down the street. Start turning tables and busting out windows. Find him!"**

                The squad kept moving in what sounded like a building, the radio chatter adding ambience to the destruction of someone’s home while they searched for Barker and MacAllan.  
"Lot of trouble to go through for just two guys. Are MacAllan and Barker really all that important?"  
"MacAllan knows as much as Graves does about fighting war. So yeah, he's important. So is anyone who can help him out!"  
"Heard Barker's some kind of brilliant Pilot, something like that."  
"He looks like a drunk!"  
"I guess the Militia have a low bar."  
"Kidnapping a drunk? I don't know whether to kill them or thank them."  
"Anyone part of the IMC, drunk or not, _can't_ fall into the Militia's hands."  
                Nathan huffed, "Sure...if you say so."

 

\---

  
**“Sir, these Militia bastards don’t know when to quit!  I need more air support to search the Harbor District!”** Blisk sounded more angry than panicked.

**“The _Sentinel_ will be there in the next ten mikes.  MacAllan’s crew have killed a lot of good people, Blisk!  You will _not_ let them escape.  Graves out.”**

                Theta-6 returned fire at a squad shooting at them.  It seemed as though they’d won, taking lives of more Militia forces.  
  
"You think this guy Barker will turn up?"  
"Yeah we'll find him. We've got a full search brigade out here."  
"Ah, how many soldiers does it take to find one man?"

**"Omicron-Six, we're setting up a perimeter, no sign of Barker, over."  
  
"Confirmed. Secure car-yard A6, spread east, out."  
  
**

“There’s your answer.”  
                The group moved through a door, slamming it behind them.  
"These buildings look expensive."  
"Yeah, too bad we're shooting the crap out of them."  
"Once you've got past the flashy surface, this place is actually kind of a dump."  
"Tell me about it. How do people live here?"  
"I have no idea, but I'm glad I don't.  Let's find this MacAllan guy and get off this rock ASAP!"  
“None of you have any idea what you’re talking about…” Nathan growled, “Shut up and keep your eyes open for Barker...”

  
  
\---

                A loud engine followed an expansive boom, like a large ship jumping in from outer space.  
  
**“Sergeant Blisk, the _Sentinel_ has arrived.” ** Graves announced, **“You’ve got your air support.”  
**  
"Look at that carrier, it's a thing of beauty!"  
"About time we got some backup!"  
"Copy that, we're stretched pretty thin for an Op like this."  
"There is _no_ way the Militia can compete with that."  
"I hear ya. I'd hate to have that thing against me."  
"Shots fired!” Nathan interrupted them, “Get in those buildings, move!"  
"Come on you Militia bastards, shoot me! I dare ya!"  
"Lambda-Four, I need a defensive perimeter around intersection D-7, over!" Nathan ordered.  
**  
"Copy that. Do you have eyes on Barker or MacAllan?"  
  
** "Negative!” He mumbled, “I'd have said something if I had..."

 

\---

 

"How many of these buildings do we have to search?"  
                Nathan flipped what sounded like a table, "All of them, you know the drill!"  
                The soldier sighed, "Yeah..."  
"Where the hell are the civilians, anyway?"  
"They probably got out before the fighting started."  
"So we're cleared to fire on them?"  
"Yeah, but that doesn't mean you're supposed to."  
"Good, I didn't sign up for that!"  
  
**“Blisk, gimme a sitrep.  How are the search teams doing?”**

**“No sign of Barker or MacAllan yet, but the Militia’s putting up a hell of a fight in the Harbor District; chances are they’re hiding out in there.”**

**“Copy that, keep me posted.  Graves out.”  
  
                ** Bullet spray broke through a window, and popped various artifacts in the house.  Glass shattered, and even papers sounded as if they were being flung all over. **  
** "How the hell are we supposed to find this MacAllan guy in this huge city?!"  
"Yeah, we're not gonna find anyone while we're getting shot at by the Militia!"

 

\---

  
  
**“Our ground forces are down to 25%.  Heavy losses across the board.  We can’t take much more of this.”**  
                Graves heaved a sigh, **“Sergeant Blisk, get your search parties working double time.  I have a feeling this was a diversion, but we have to make sure.”**

**“If it was just a diversion sir, they certainly paid a high price for it.”**

  
                Nathan and his team reloaded their weapons while the battle raged in the distance.  
"I'll bet this guy got away."  
"It wouldn't be the first time."  
"Command hasn't given an order to stop looking yet, soldiers, so I suggest you keep your opinions to yourselves!” He yelled.  
“TI-TAN!” One of his squad mates shouted, “IT’S SRS!  RUN!”

  
\---

  
**[Playing attached file]**

 

Storming Angel City to reacquire our old wingman…How’d it feel to take a stroll down memory lane?  
  
I hated every minute of it.  Then again, I’ve got a _lot_ of memories in this place…

When the city fell to the IMC, I thought Evelyn’s legacy went up in flames aside from…Well, you know.

But then I saw her daughter in action.  EV’s Pilot.

Liera Lastimosa.  Remember that name.  She’ll end up in the books right next to her father - you wait and see.

Any who…

It’s time to assault the _Sentinel._ See you on Outpost 207.

Hope you idiots have a better strategy, this time.

 

********

 

                Liera bit her lip so hard she almost opened the cut that had just started to heal.  
“Fuck… _this!_ ”  She turned around, storming to EV’s cockpit as it opened.  
“Uh…”  
                She reached inside, pulling her jumpsuit out from under her chair.  She kicked her boots off, and stuck her legs through the bottom.  
“What just happened?”  
                Liera held up her hand behind her, pushing her arms through the sleeves, “He’s been on my ass the entire time.  Are you fucking _kidding_ me?!”  
                She put her boots back on, and strapped her helmet to her hip.  
“Wait…” Her neck snapped around to EV, “You think he was watching us at Demeter?”  
“There is no way for me to form a hypothesis on that particular subject, Pilot.”  
                She looped her scarf around her neck, “How about this for a hypothesis? I’m fucking starving, and Nathan’s a prick.”  
“While I do not share your notion for hunger, I do agree that Nathan is, indeed, a ‘prick.’”  
                The complete and utter bullshit of this mission whipped around in her head until she broke into a laugh.  A loud, boisterous, made-tears-pool-at-her-eyes, kind of laugh.  Danse looked at her like she was insane.  
“Whelp,” She took her holster that was once around her ankle, and connected it to her belt, “That woulda’ been pretty awkward if I hadn’t told you about Evelyn before we listened to that, amiright?”  
“Yeah.” Danse smirked, “You’re right.”  
                All she could do was laugh…  
                Just like the soldiers on the deployment line that had themselves convinced that there was any difference between _civilians_ and the Militia forces they were hunting. _  
“I can’t wait to get my hands on this asshole.”_

 

…

 

                Rhys waited at the side of the doorway, one steaming can in each hand.  He offered one as Danse stormed through.  
“Found some instant coffee, Paladin.”  
“Thank you.” Danse took one, and gave him a polite nod.  
“You’re welcome, sir.  Oh, hey, Lasti-“  
“Thanks, Rhys.” Liera walked by him, plucking the other can from his grip, “You’re a life saver.”  
“Erm…That was my…” He sighed, “You’re welcome…”  
                Haylen sat on the floor, scooping mush from a metal bowl. She paused with her spoon in her mouth.  
“Where were you guys up to?”  
“Plotting to take over the world.”  Liera sat next to her, taking a bowl, “What’s for breakfast?”  
“A briefing.”  
                Rhys and Haylen exchanged glances, and then looked at Danse, “Briefing, you say?”  
                Danse took a scoop from the grainy pot in the middle of them, “Yes.”  
                He passed the ladle to Liera, who did the same.  
_“And to think all I wanted was a relaxing morning…”_  
                A knock came from the doorframe just as she swallowed the first bite.  Liera turned her head, freezing as she realized who was standing in front of them.  
“Morning, Brotherhood soldiers.” He nodded, “I hope Sanctuary is treating you well.  Got a minute?”  
                Rhys snickered, “Is that supposed to be a bad pun or something?”  
“What? Oh.” He laughed, “Minute.  Minutemen.  I get it.  No, I was just hoping we could cha-...”  
                He paused, turning to face Liera, “Wow, you really _are_ a girl.”  
                She huffed, “ _Woman_.  I’m not a kid.”  
“Excuse me, miss.” He gave her a sly grin, “Didn’t mean to offend.  When I saw you on the bridge…Well, that armor’s kind of…”  
“You don’t have to say it.”  
                He extended his hand, “Preston Garvey, General of the-“  
“Liera Lastimosa.” She said with a mouthful of food.  
                She didn’t look at him as she swallowed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, “Combat Intel Specialist of the Frontier Militia.  My Titan’s name is EV-5649, you can call her EV. My implants in my head are classified. I have a prosthetic arm, spine, and set of knees.  That about answer all your questions?”  
“I…suppose.  Danse filled me in on your situation, but I have to admit, meeting you in person…”  
“General Garvey,” Danse cleared his throat, “I was just about to brief my team on our plan.”  
“Ah, I see.”  Preston gave him a nervous smile, “I’ll have a small team put together.  We’ll meet you by the statue when we’re ready.”  
                He tipped his hat, glancing at Liera before dismissing himself.  
                The Recon Squad’s attention shifted to Danse, awaiting an explanation.  
“As I was saying…”

 

…

 

“A sea monster, eh?” Liera leaned her chin on her palm, her thumb tracing the ring around her empty can, “I suppose that’s going to be _my_ responsibility?”  
“I doubt it’s an _actual_ sea monster, Lastimosa.” Rhys rolled his eyes, “Did Elder Maxson give the okay on this?”  
                Danse bit the inside of his cheek, “I haven’t contacted him yet.”  
“…You haven’t?”  
“Oh boy,” Haylen rocked back, supporting herself with her hands pressed to the floor, “ _This_ should be interesting.”  
“I’ll contact him once we’re packed up and ready to deploy.” Danse ran his fingers through his hair, “That way, if he orders us to evac we’ll be able to leave as soon as possible.”  
“Evac isn’t really an option anymore, is it?”  
                Leave it to Liera to state the obvious.  
“Not if we want this alliance to pan itself out, no…”  
                He couldn’t help but notice a shift in Rhys’s demeanor.  The fact that he made Danse nervous to give him the briefing in the first place was irritating.  
“As the leader of this team, you all need to trust me that I’m doing what’s best for the Brotherhood.”  
                Rhys met his stare and shied away immediately.  The statement was just passive aggressive enough to put him back in line.  
“Yes, Paladin.” He muttered.

 

…

 

                Liera put her boot on the side of EV’s leg, pulling the laces in each hand.  The ropes made a winding sound as they ground through the loops, and she tied them in knots.  
“Here they come.”  Danse shifted in his Power Armor.  
                It was funny, really.  
                When they’d arrived at Sanctuary, they walked over the same bridge Preston and his team did, now.  And just like Preston and _his_ team originally had, Recon Squad Gladius waited for them on the other side.  
“Think we looked this dramatic when we crossed?”  Liera closed her visor, sealing the metal clasps underneath.  
                Rhys brought his rebreather around, clasping it to the other side of his helmet rather than letting it dangle, “Doubtful.”  
                There were a lot of similarities with Preston’s team; most of which she wasn’t expecting.  She hadn’t known what a deployed squad of Minutemen would look like, but to her surprise and _his_ credit, they looked more prepared than one would think.  
                The man to Preston’s left was almost taller than even Danse, and the armor he wore looked like he’d plucked it from a tank and strapped the plating to his heavily-padded limbs.  His helmet was a dome-shape with a visor like a retrofitted welding mask.  His chest plate curved upwards, leading away from his face.  And underneath all the green, scratched plates, he held a flame thrower.  
                The other man wore navy-blue fatigues and lightly-padded armor.  He was built for maneuverability.  A knife was strapped over his heart, and his face was hidden by a knitted mask under a dark-grey combat helmet.  His face guard was pushed up on his forehead, alluding to the fact that he was more welcoming than the other man.  
                A woman accompanied them, too.  She had her hair tied back, strung along the middle of her head.  Both sides were shaved and lined with stripes.  She had eyes of someone who was wise past her age.  They rested upon cheekbones marked by black lines, like some form of war paint.  And similar to _everyone_ in the Commonwealth, her face donned scars that told a story of hardship and struggle.  
                What was most surprising about her, was that underneath the odds-and-ends-leather armor she had, she wore a blue jumpsuit with a yellow, “81,” stitched on it.  
“A monument to the original Minutemen.” Preston stopped and smiled at a statue next to the Recon Squad, “It marks the Old North Bridge.”  
                He lightly tapped his foot on the planks, “This old heap of wood’s been through a lot.  It’s where the first shots of the American Revolution were fired.”  
“More of your history lessons?”  
“We can learn a lot from history, Alexsandr.”  
                Alexsandr pointed his domed-head at Liera, “I am more interested in the little robot and it’s machine.”  
                Liera put her hands on her hips, “I’m not a ‘little robot…’ and that machine’s called a Titan.”  
“Ekh, you hear that, Artyom?  It’s a girl!”  
                The knitted mask stretched over a smile as the other man leaned on his hip, never letting his fully-automatic weapon out of his palms, “Pardon his manners, for he has none.”  
                Their accents were harsh and rugged, with deep pulls and slight rolls off their tongues.  
“You’d be certain ‘bout that.” The woman smirked, “Lad has ‘bout as much grace to him as a Deathclaw in heat.”  
                Liera shied away from the haunting images.  
“This is Alexsandr and Artyom Senaviev, our brothers from another world.  This is Cait McNamara, previously a resident of Vault 81 before joining the Minutemen.”  
“And frequent chem user,” Alexsandr huffed, “Narkoman…”  
                The foreign word was lost in translation, but Liera could gather it was an insult.  
“I still keep the bullets off of you _and_ drink your sorry arse under the table.”  
“What are friends for, ah?”  
                Danse interrupted the two bickering teammates, “This is Scribe Haylen, Knight Rhys, and Knight Lastimosa.  Pleasure to meet you all.”  
                Alexsandr raised the cover on his helmet, revealing two grey eyes surrounded by burn scars and singe marks.  He put a hand on Danse’s shoulder, laughing maniacally.  Even being in a suit of Power Armor, Danse rocked at his pull.  
“You are the great Paladin that Garvey speaks of?”  
“…Yes.”  
“Where is your white horse?  Your chariot?  Your leagues of beautiful women?” He coughed, and his condescending humor faded, “Paladins…Knights…Scribes…Since when did soldiers need such fancy titles?”  
                He mumbled to himself as he marched down the path.  
“That’s an awful lot of ungratefulness coming from someone who needs help taking back a castle _they_ lost in the first place.” Danse glowered, “I’d keep those poor manners in check if I were you.”  
“Please do not enable him…”  As Artyom passed to follow, Liera noticed a red symbol on his helmet.  
                One that matched Alexsandr’s.  
“Hah!” Alexsandr turned on his heel, “We did not lose castle.  Artyom and I work for the people who work with the Minutemen.  And I assure you, tin man, we know much more about the Brotherhood than you know about us.”  
                Rhys’s hands tightened on his rifle, “Then you know what we’re capable of.”  
“Alright, alright.  Let’s break this up.” Preston walked in between them, “We’re all on the same side, here.  Right, Paladin Danse?”  
                Danse shifted, turning to him, “ _My_ team doesn’t need a reminder, General…”  
                Liera clicked the safety on her rifle.  
_“I don’t trust these guys at all.”  
_                 She turned her chin, and found Cait watching from behind Preston.  
_“…_ Or _her.”_

…

 

                The road leading up past the Red Rocket Truck Station was cracked and sprinkled with rubble.  Liera walked with her new teammates, trailing behind with EV to keep them all in her sights.  Before this deployment, she never felt the need to protect herself from native civilians, or otherwise.  The mistrust she had for people just simply trying to survive was new.  
                She was used to protecting people that didn’t know how to protect themselves.  Used to working with local forces to bring peace and freedom to the Frontier.  But to be constantly challenged and measured against by people who’ve been fighting for years without the Militia’s help…  
                It changed her.  Was _changing_ , her.  
“So, what’s your story?”  
                She hadn’t noticed Preston falling back, walking around a puddle on the pavement.  
“I thought Danse filled you in.”  
                Preston grinned, and stepped over a tire lodged in a crack, “No, no, no…I mean your _story._ ”  
                His questions were a little more personal than the Brotherhood’s, and he was asking out of curiosity rather than documentation purposes.  
                She didn’t care if who she was turning into was a better soldier or a jaded Pilot.  Either way, everyone she met from hereon out had to be kept at a distance.  Not just for her safety, but for the safety of her team.  
_“You can’t trust anyone a hundred percent.”  
_                 Barker lived by the words.  
“The Militia’s fight to free the Frontier night not be _my_ story, but it’s the only one that matters.”  
                Liera wasn’t in the mood for small talk.  She was focused on monitoring every move that Alexsandr, Artyom, and Cait made.  
“No worries.”  Preston’s chin lowered to his scarf, “We've all got our past to deal with. I don't need to know anything you don't want to tell me.”  
“And you?”  
“What?”  
“Anything you want to tell me about the Minutemen?”  
                He ran his thumb along the rim of his hat, “Nothing to tell, really.  We’re citizen soldiers.  The people of the Commonwealth banding together to protect ourselves and decide our own future.”  
                She swallowed, and glanced at EV over her shoulder.  
                The Militia had been born from mercenaries, pirates, and colonists alike.  Even now, everyone put aside their differences to prevent the IMC’s progression.  That, it seemed, she and Preston had in common:  Belonging to an emergency force pulled together to face overwhelming odds.  
“People _should_ decide their own future.”  
                The road lifted into a small hill, winding between buildings and marked with a sign reading, _“Entering Concord; 1635.”_  
                Preston slung his rifle around his shoulder, adjusting the strap across his chest.  
“It was here that the American people decided what they wanted for their future.”  
                The buildings were in shambles, much like the other towns she’d passed through in her tours across the Commonwealth.  But this one had a strong-standing building at the end; past all the decorations and banners that said, _“Celebrate History.”  
_                 It was made from brick and was taller than the others, parked next to a church that was in much more disarray.  An eagle with two guns crossing the center graced the top of a balcony.  A Vertibird impaled itself in the roof, rusted and dysfunctional.  
                Danse had mentioned a museum with an old Vertibird wreck on the roof once before.  
_“The Museum of Freedom…”  
_                 The original contact point between the Brotherhood and the Minutemen.  
_“Where Knight Keane died…”  
_                 She imagined that her friends, marching in front of her with foreign people at their lead, weren’t faring well revisiting the place.  
                Danse’s stomping Power Armor came to a halt. Haylen and Rhys stopped alongside him. Together, they stood at the base of the museum, looking up at the roof.  
“What’s the matter?” Alexsandr called, turning right and walking down an alley, “Tin man is tired?”  
                He didn’t have anything to say in response.  
                Liera took her place next to him, feeling sadness whisking out between the gaps in his suit.  
“I wish I could have done more.” Haylen squeezed her fists, “We’ve lost so…so many…”  
                Rhys put his hand on her shoulder, and she reeled it back in.  
“Not for nothing.” Danse offered, “They’ve given us a chance to keep fighting.”  
“I know, it’s just…”  
“We’ve got a lot of ground to cover before night falls,” Artyom advised, “We should-“  
                Cait held a finger up to her lips, “Shh.  Come along, now.”  
                She pulled his arm, and they moved towards Alexsandr.  
_“She must know what happened here…”  
_                 Preston moved past them, turning to face Danse.  
“Can I borrow Lastimosa?  Won’t take long.”  
                Liera’s neck snapped back, “Huh?”  
“As long as you tell your friend to keep his mouth shut.”  
“Yeah…Sorry about that.” Preston looked on, “He’s not under my authority.  He’s good under pressure, though.  You’ll be glad he’s here if we run into trouble.”  
                Danse rolled his neck, the metal ring of his helmet rubbing against his shoulder plates, “Whatever you’re going to do, make it quick.”  
“Hold on a sec,” Liera held her hands out, “What is it you need from me, exactly?”  
“Just to show you something, from one militia to another.”  
                Her brows perked up, and she nodded as he grinned.  
_“Wasn’t expecting that.”_  
                He pointed his chin at the museum, and his coat fluttered as he turned on his heel.  She’d feel threatened to go into such a place with someone she didn’t know if she couldn’t squish him with a flex of her palm.  
                But she could…  
                So she followed.

 

…

 

                It was the quietest place in the Commonwealth, as if the ghosts of America gave a moment of silence for its own fallen state of being.  The collapsed second and third levels were scarred from the Vertibird lodged in the ceiling.  Planks of wood and rubble dotted the floor under broken, wilted columns.  
                There was a painting where a man in a blue coat with the American flag behind him pointed his weapon at a different man, with a red coat, under a flag Liera hadn’t seen before.  The banner above them read, _“Museum of Freedom.”_  
                Preston’s footsteps were deafening in the muted hall.  The light coming through the triangular skylight was gentle as it shined down, highlighting him.  
“When Danse told me the story of the Frontier War, something clicked.”  He took a step forward, walking up the stairs, “After the initial shock of an outer-space civilization went away, I realized…I’ve _heard_ this story before.  Every American has.”  
                This place had once been a marked victory for the United States.  Now, it was an example of the folly that was nuclear war; long unvisited by people who were more focused on surviving than reliving past glories.  
                Witnessing a man traverse the tomb, one who valued those virtues; who _treasured_ that history…  
                It was sad.  
                He paused on the stairs, staring up at a painting of a wooden vessel on water.  It was crowned with huge, cloth squares rigged to poles.  
“The people who discovered the American Frontier came on _different_ kinds of ships.” He pointed to the painting, “The United States of America began as a collection of trading posts and small farms.  But then the settlers established homesteads, and soon, settlements sprang up.  Eventually, the original Thirteen Colonies were formed.”  
                They continued up the stairs, taking a left and walking down the hall.  
_“An unknown land, discovered and shaped by hardworking hands.”_  
                Things were starting to sound familiar.  
                Dust fell as he ran his hand along the railing, and it drifted in the sunrays before attaching to the floor.  Banners with images of soldiers, tattered and beaten, swung lazily from the same draft.  Preston paused, turning to look at her.  
“But the original Thirteen Colonies were still owned by the governing power that sent its inhabitants abroad.  A country known as Great Britain.  The British King sought to tax the colonists in order to pay off his country’s debts.  They restricted trade so that colonists could only purchase imported goods.  The colonists had no say in their rights, despite having established their own forms of government.”  
                At the end of the hall, a room was well-lit with electric lights.  
                It struck her as odd, considering electricity seemed like something that would be a commodity in this world.  A resource that wouldn’t be wasted on sentimental artifacts.  Still, his lesson didn’t fall on deaf ears.  
_“A governing power that did little to partake in a new world, taking interest only for a profit…”_  
                Preston guided her into the room, and a beautifully painted mural stretched along a curved wall.  
                To the left, men in similar outfits to his held old rifles in their palms.  A less-decorated version of the American flag waved in the wind, held by a man with a flagpole.  
“The Minutemen were civilians, just regular colonists trying to get through everyday life.  They organized themselves into a militia; self-trained in weapons and military tactics.” He looked at her, “They were mobile and rapidly deployed in response to any threats to the Colonies…and were the first to fight in the American Revolution when the British came for their stockpiles.” _  
_                 Preston guided her to a plaque resting beneath soldiers that seemed more modern, judging by the warship and plane in the sky.  
_“The Militia was formed in response to the IMC’s invasion…”_  
                Liera ran her fingers over the engraved letters, peat and ash being dragged along with them.

 

_“This mural commemorates the many sacrifices of the brave men and women of the United States Armed Forces._

_From Lexington and Concord to the shores of Iwo Jima, from the Sea of Tranquility to the Anchorage Front Line, Americans have fought and died through the ages to secure our nation’s freedom._

_May their sacrifices remind us all that freedom is a privilege afforded to the many, yet hard won by a noble few.”_

 

                Small pools threatened to form in her eyes, and she took in the mural at a greater depth.  
                It was a timeline told through bright orange hues and mixed reds.  From leathers and muskets to fatigues and warships.  From carrier planes to jets and rockets in outer space.  From a lightly armored suit to silver Power Armor encased in the smoke trailing from a heavy machine gun.  
                They were all brought together by a burning background.  
                Explosions, fire, missiles…A centrical theme that carried on through each time period.  
                War.  
“That one.” Liera walked to the outer space picture, glaring at it intently, “This was…the Sea of Tranquility?”  
“Nora told me once that was a name for the moon.  Other than that, it’s a piece of history that even I couldn’t recover...and _she_ was reluctant to share.” He took to her side, crossing his arms, “Anything look familiar?”  
“Those ships.” She pointed to the upper left-hand corner, “Those are older IMC jets.  We still have some in a hangar from when we stole them centuries ago.”  
“Interesting.”  
                Liera changed her focus to the Power Armor, “Were they with the Brotherhood?”  
“No…But Danse _would_ be the one to ask about the Battle of Anchorage.”  He frowned, “The Brotherhood may have been born from the remnants of the U.S. Military, but I’m not sure what they’re fighting for, now…”  
“The same thing as you.  To better the Commonwealth.”  
“Are you sure about that?”  
                Her jaw tensed, and she remembered what EV told her earlier.  
“Honestly, it doesn’t matter what I think… _None_ of it will if we don’t work together to stop the IMC from coming here.”  
“That’s exactly why I wanted to show you this.”  
                She cocked her head, “You think educating me will stop the IMC?”  
“No, but Danse tells me you put a lot of pressure on yourself to ‘save us all.’  You don’t need to.  Defending our freedom is nothing new to us.  It’s who we are.  The stuff we’re made of.”  He held his hand out, directing his words at each depiction in the mural, “Whether it be the British, other countries, the IMC, or China, or _anyone_ else…We won’t go quietly.”  
                Liera smirked, “United, We Stand…”  
“Divided, We Fall.”  
                She raised her brow, “What?”  
“America’s ‘motto,’ of sorts.”  He nodded over his shoulder.  
                She followed him back out to the hallway, “Hmph.  I like ours better.”  
“What is it?”  
“United, We Stand.  Divided, We _Ambush_.”  
                Preston chuckled, and led her past the staircase.  
                They climbed a makeshift ramp up towards the roof, “I think I like yours better, too.”

 

… 

  
  
                Sunrise painted the horizon with a fiery palette, shedding light on a distant city and the _Prydwen_ floating behind it.  To think she stood on the grounds where a country birthed from colonies fought for their freedom…and _won_.  
                She was almost lost by the romance of it all before she remembered that those same people used that freedom to take it away from _her_ people.  The perfect invaders.  
                People with knowledge of _both_ sides.  
“This is where it all started.  In Concord.  In Lexington.” Preston pointed in the skyline’s direction, “It’s a Raider stronghold, now.  The scumbags that live there bleed out and poison areas like Graygarden.  When they pushed out the Ferals, they relocated to College Square and infested Cambridge.  Danse tried to do something about it, but…”  
“But?”  
“Shortly after Keane died, and Gladius fortified the Cambridge Police Station, my scouts reported that they tried to assault the Corvega Assembly Plant on the edge of the city.  From what Danse told me, Knight Brach stepped on a landmine.  Worwick was wounded, died later…”  
                Liera cringed, remembering the story of Haylen and Worwick that Danse told her shortly after she arrived in the Commonwealth.  
“Danse, Haylen, Rhys, and Dawes were the only ones to make it out alive.”  
“Dawes?”  
“He died later, at their first attempt to take the airport.”  
                She sighed, turning back to Lexington.  
                It sat behind a bending freeway with gaps in its surface, far past the foggy wilds and barren forest.  
                She’d seen the pastel buildings before.  Looked at them often, as the _Prydwen_ offered a nice view.  A smoke stack surrounded by pipes and other industrial formations marked what she guessed was the Corvega Assembly Plant.   
**_“Freedom is a privilege afforded to the many, yet hard won by a noble few.”_**  
                She’d like to think the people, like Nathan, who signed on to the IMC Reclamation Campaign didn’t know they were agreeing to be hypocrites; that they’d be taking land away from colonists much like the British had tried to do to _their_ country’s founders.  That the IMC soldiers who still fought _now_ were descendants of vermin like the Raiders.  
                Then she reminded herself that the Militants and civilians on the Militia’s half of the Frontier also had ties to this place, not just the governing power who _brought_ them there.  
“Is Lexington on the way?”  
                She kept her focus on the city as her question lingered, threatening to be taken away by the breeze before he answered.  
“It _can_ be.”  
“Well, General Garvey…”  She hopped down from the side of the museum’s skylight, meeting him on the flat surface of the roof, “It seems that the Frontier Militia and the Minutemen have a lot in common; one strong trait in particular.”  
“What’s that?”  
                She thought back to Operation: Fracture.  Colony G21.  The Homestead Evacuation.  The Spire Event.  
                Every skirmish and revolution that made the Frontier, and the Militia, what it is today.  
“When freedom calls…”  
                A collection of souls who long to be free.  
“We answer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Behind the Scenes:**  
>  Check out [Chapter 46](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10296845/chapters/29737071%22) of _"The Archive,"_ for more screenshots and commentary!
> 
> **Author's Notes:**  
>  *If you're wondering if Artyom is a Metro 2033 reference...yes. I can't say much on this right now except that this will not turn into an over-encumbered multiverse. MjrGenMatt largely credited for helping me hammer out these details and, of course, being an awesome beta. 
> 
> *I took some liberties with Cait's backstory only because Gwen McNamara is the Overseer of Vault 81. The surname McNamara is a nod at my other fic's OC, Naomi McNamara, who is of Irish descent. (Also acts a lot like Cait)
> 
> *I feel the need to put a disclaimer here:
> 
> I know that the US's history has its dark sides, too. The point here wasn't to glorify my country, but rather run the parallels between the US's struggles with the Frontier's. Hope everything bodes well with you all.


	29. Frontier Justice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Frontier town, home to the western hero. Frontier justice, dealt with the iron hand.”_  
>  -Neil Young

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Notes:**  
>  As of March 15th, 2018, _“Of Steel and Stardust”_ officially turned a year old. I’ll try to refrain from going into a long-winded “thank you,” letter…but really. Thank you. Thank you for leaving feedback (good or bad) and engaging in fun conversation with me. (Some of you actually played Titanfall 2 with me!) Thank you for dealing with my sporadic update schedule. And most importantly, thank you for reading.
> 
> I won’t lie and say that traffic stats, favorites, reviews, and subscriptions don’t make me happy; but there’s nothing I have enjoyed more or have gained more fulfillment from while writing this WIP than meeting and connecting with all of you.

* * *

* * *

                 hen Liera and Preston first informed him of the assault, Danse had his reserves.  Keane had died at the Museum of Freedom, and the same Raiders that stalked them at Concord had a fallback point.  
                Lexington.  
                A nest for the rabble the Brotherhood had dealt with since they set foot in the Commonwealth.  Those who were no better than a pack of wild dogs fighting over scraps of meat.  There was no honor among them.  
                And just like revisiting the airport, Fort Strong, Concord…  
                Being back in Lexington brought with it ill memories.  
                It was there he’d learn that losing Dawes at the airport would give cause to the first of two retreats; where he’d lose Worwick and Brach to the Raiders as well.  Where his ordered assault on the Corvega Assembly Plant ultimately failed; and left him, Rhys, and Haylen on their own.  
                They’d almost died, too.  They probably all would have if it wasn’t for the woman who sat in a small chair inside a large robot.  
                Maybe he was scared to go back…  
                But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t itching at the chance to avenge his fallen Brothers.  
“You okay?”  
                Danse looked over his shoulder.  The nose of Preston’s musket scraped across the bloodied ground.  
                They were on the border of the ruined city, and their welcome hadn’t been warm.  Bodies littered the small field, and fires burned hot from where Alexsandr’s flamethrower touched the brush and bodies.  
“They’re godless heathens…”  
                Maybe Dawes wouldn’t have gotten attacked by the Deathclaw if the fight with the Raiders hadn’t drawn its attention.  Worwick and Brach would have-  
“Since we've met, you've done some things that made me wonder if I had made a mistake in trusting you. I think I've been pretty clear about that.”  
                Danse scrunched his nose, “Now’s not the time, Preston.”  
“Let me finish.”  
                He let a breath out, and bit his words.  
“I've been thinking back lately on how things were for me when we first met.”  He took to Danse’s side, letting the others loot the dead bodies while EV scanned for hostiles.  
“It was the lowest point of my life. I mean...all my closest friends were dead. I’d failed everyone who'd ever relied on me. I'd led them to Concord and we had no hope of getting out alive.”  
                Preston swallowed, looking at Cait and Artyom, “The thing is... that was actually okay with me. I was ready to die. It was what I felt I deserved. It was what I wanted.”  
                The conversation felt strangely familiar, like when he’d confessed his failures to Liera.  He remembered how she’d consoled him; what she said that pulled him out of his state of distraction.  
“You did your best, Preston. You can't blame yourself for what happened.”  
“I know it wasn't all on me. But, I made my share of bad decisions along the way. I've got to live with that.”  Preston’s hat overshadowed the right side of his face as he looked up to him, “I had to put on a brave face as long as there were still people counting on me. That's the only reason I kept going.”  
                Danse wasn’t the only one who almost lost everything to the Raiders.  Preston was in the same position, with the same guilt on his consciousness.  
“I know what you’re going through, Danse.  But just know, well…You and your team saved our lives.”  He frowned, “If we hadn't met, or if you'd just taken off without killing those Raiders...I don't know if we'd still be around.  The sacrifice your men nobly made wasn’t for nothing.  And I’m glad to have the chance to prove that.”  
                Danse wasn’t ever good at conversations like these.  He definitely wasn’t good at coming to terms with the fact that his judgment of Preston’s character had been wrong.  
“I'm glad you decided to give us another chance, Preston. The world needs more people like you.”  
“Well now you're making me embarrassed.” He smirked, “You know, you act like you're a hardass, but I judge people by what they do, not what they say.  I've seen how you've changed.”  
“Maybe.  The rules haven’t changed, though.”  Danse gave him a nod, “You watch my back, I'll watch yours.”  
“Oh,” Preston chuckled, shoving a new pack of cells in his laser musket, “I’ve got your back, alright.”

 

…

 

                Haylen stepped on a branch, shaking its stripped limbs with her weight.  A pistol hung at her side, highlighted by the burning body and pillaring smoke behind her.  
“That was some nice shooting, Haylen.” Rhys gave her a nod.  
“I’m not completely useless out here.”  
“Oh, I know you can kick some serious ass when you need to.”  
                Liera grunted, patting a dead Raider.  
_“He needs some work on hiding all that flirting.”_  
                She cringed at the wrinkled and putrid skin that built the body.  She rolled him over, raising a brow at the strange sack with goggles over his head.  
“What’s with this guy?”  
                She slipped her fingers underneath the seam, lifting it carefully.  
“AH!”  
                She fell backwards, landing on her backside and scurrying away.  
“Why do you yell, little robot?”  Alexsandr rolled his shoulders at the weight of the flamethrower.  
“That, that’s a _Ghoul_ -“ She pointed to the body, “Why is it wearing armor? What-“  
“You haven’t met a prewar Ghoul yet?” Preston asked, offering a hand.  
                She took it, and he pulled her up.  
“Hah,” Liera brushed her hair out of her face, “Killed every one I’ve seen.”  
“I really hope you’re talking about Ferals, or I’m rescinding my offer to lift the embargo.”  
“Wait, wait, wait…” She looked back at the body on the ground, “There’s more than one type of Ghoul?”  
“Wow, you really _aren't_ from around here…Okay, so some Ghouls are...”  He paused, seemingly struggling to find the right words, “Irradiated _people_. Most are just like you and me. They look pretty messed up, and live a long time, but they're still just...People. The ones I hope you’re talking about are different. The radiation's rotted their brains. Made them feral. They'll rip you apart, just as soon as look at you.”  
“You’re saying there are Ghouls that, like…Talk?”  
“Sure.  We’ve even got a few around Sanctuary.”  
“If a Ghoul ends up livin’ anywhere near me, I’m movin’ out.” Cait muttered, kicking a body at her feet.  
“Ferals squash pretty good when you stomp on their heads in Power Armor.”  Danse snickered, “I love that sound.”  
                Liera rolled her eyes, “If they’re all radiated, what makes some different than the others?”  
“Nobody seems to know exactly what makes a normal Ghoul turn feral.” Preston shuddered, “Kind of scary.”  
“There’s no _normal_ Ghoul.” Rhys growled, “They’re _all_ diseased filth.”  
                Artyom was next to Danse, staring at Alexsandr with squinted eyes.  His fingers squeezed on his gun.  
“Perhaps we should move on to a different topic.” Preston suggested.  
“Or perhaps this Brotherhood pawn would explain the reasoning behind his comrade’s beliefs.” Artyom turned to Danse, clearly angry, “Please tell me: What have your people learned while hiding in your flying ship?”  
“Hiding?” Danse cocked his head, “My Brothers and Sisters weren’t _hiding_ when they died trying to cleanse the Commonwealth!”  
“Kha,” Alexsandr spit, “And where was your cleansing Brotherhood when _our_ Brothers and Sisters were slaughtered in Cambridge, eh?  Hiding in your little politseyskiy uchastok behind your barrikady and _perimetry_.”  
“What are you talking about?” Liera felt the tension rise between them.  
                It put her on edge, and she’d act on it if need be.  
“You ask now?  You did not ask when it mattered.  Brotherhood does not care about anyone outside of their own.”  
“That’s a lie!” Haylen yelled, “Of course we care!”  
“Yup, nothin' says you care more than a huge robot to get your point across.” Cait cocked her chin at EV.  
“The only explanation that will be heard here is _his._ ” Artyom sucked his teeth at Rhys, “So go on, tell us.  Why do you hate Ghouls so?”  
“We don’t have time for this.” Liera flipped her helmet over her head, “Absolutely fucking ridiculous.”  
                She turned her back on the arguing group, ready to hop in EV’s cockpit and take Lexington by herself.  
“Little robot girl has a sharp tongue.”  
                Alexsandr’s taunt paused her retreat.  
_“Don’t feed into it, don’t feed into it-“  
_                 But he didn’t stop. _  
_ “Perhaps she should sheathe it.”  
“I’d like to see you try and make me.”  Her fists squeezed tight, wanting to knock the overbearing helmet that covered him.  
“What are you going to do, shoot me? Hide behind your machine?”  
                They stood across from each other, and she took a step forward.  Her footsteps were slow and precise; challenging, yet cautious.  
“I wouldn’t shoot you, and I certainly wouldn’t need to hide.  You talk a big game because you think you’re safe behind all that armor, don’t you?”  Liera stopped just inches in front of him, raising her face to meet his, “How safe would you feel, I wonder, after I stripped away each piece with nothing but my bare hands?”  
                She pointed a finger, and guided the tip of his flamethrower away.  
“And watch where you’re pointing that thing.  My ‘machine’s,’ flamethrower makes yours look like a child’s toy.”  
                Silence fell over the group- all except a low, rumbling chuckle from Alexsandr’s chest.  
“I knew a woman like you.  Pretty.  Intelligent.  Strong.  Full of wit in her remarks.  I enjoyed her company in more ways than one.  Do you know what happened to her, little robot?”  
                Her brows creased.  
“She was mutilated and dismembered by Raiders.  For much like you, she confused bravery with arrogance.”  
“I made that mistake once.  I lost a lot.  Learned more.” She flexed her metal fingers, hidden by her glove, “You don’t know the Brotherhood.  You don’t know the Militia.”  
                She looked to the crumbling freeways that led to Hell’s gate; the collapsed structures surrounded by a heap of ramps, high walls, and billboards advertising products that didn’t exist anymore.  
“You don’t know _me..._ ”  
                Beams and debris bridged each rooftop to the next.  The towering assembly plant sat farther back, formed by a maze of pipes and walkways that reached high above Lexington’s decaying skyline.  
                A Pilot’s playground.  
“…But you will.”

 

…

 

                Liera shot three times, the distinct sound like ice frosting over glass.  Each armor-piercing round hit a target as she sprinted around the curve, drawing the stationed Raiders’ attention while Rhys and Haylen trailed behind with Danse.  
                Her Wingman bucked from the recoil, and she put it in it’s holster once the initial assailants were disposed.  
_“Gotchya.”  
_                 Bullets came from high and low, drowning out the shouts of Raiders with piss-poor aim.  
“You’ll have to try better than that!” _  
_                 Her cloak turned her invisible, and she broke into a slide.  She brought her Hemlok to her front with her left hand, her right dragging along the pavement to keep herself steady.  
                She pulled the trigger, killing a man who crouched behind a column…  
                And then she took his spot.  
                Chunks of brick pulled away from her cover.  She leaned around the side, shooting every Raider she could find.  
_“Have to get the high ground.”  
                _ To her right, an old, run down Red Rocket sat just below the same level as her desired vantage point.  _  
_**“Are we good to move in yet?” _  
_** Danse asked on the radio, Liera’s focus still trained on the clearing she’d have to run through without getting shot.  
“They’ve got too many on the rooves-“  
                She took cover and returned fire, downing a man who pushed from inside a building.  
**“Can’t you call in EV?”  
** “You said you wanted buildings left standing, didn’t you? Give me a minute!”  
                Liera shot her grapple at the roof, and kicked off the pillar.  Her jump kit pushed her faster than the near-death shots that were too close to contact.  She ran across one roof, double-jumping to the next.  
                She aimed.  Pulled the trigger.  Let one burst shot take down a less-equipped Raider.  Aimed again.  Let loose another burst.  The nose of her Hemlok ducked and rose with each precise turn, hungry to exterminate Lexington’s infestation.  
                She lowered a knee, crouching near the edge of the rooftop and shoving a new clip in her rifle.   
                This was her post, now.  
“Recon Squad Gladius, you are cleared to engage.”

 

…

 

                Danse used his body as a shield to cover Rhys and Haylen while they fell into position.  
“Remember, team.  Our current objective is to suppress enemy fire!”  
                Small, rapid shots came from his left.  Haylen’s laser pistol.  
                Scattered lasers sprang from his right.  Rhys.  
“Suppressing!” They called out simultaneously.  
                With them firing on either side, he made a slow march down the middle, the Raider’s bullets barely scratching the thick metal that coated him.  Danse sent his own shots forward, unleashing every lesson of vengeance and loss that the Raiders taught him.  
“More on the rooftops, Lastimosa!”Rhys slammed his back against a parked bus, the ricocheting bullets flashing in the goggles over his eyes.  
“Corvega vehicles have small fusion engines under the hood, so watch where you shoot.” Danse warned.  
                A familiar firing pattern came from above, and Liera sprinted across a billboard’s thatched walkway.  She hopped and slid under angled beams that supported the sign before breaking off at the end and landing out of view.  
**“Good to know…”  
**                 There was a smile to her words, and he realized his warning may have backfired.  
“Don’t get us blown up.”  
**“You guys?”** A body porous from bullet holes splattered on the cement, and her blue visor leaned over the edge of the roof, **“Never.”**  
                A strong shot caught Danse’s helmet, forcing him to stumble to the left.  A Raider with a shotgun was pushing up on him.  
                He brought his elbow around, decking him in the face.  The Raider bled, and he finished him off with his modified laser rifle. **  
“Attention Recon Squad Gladius.  I am patching you through to the Minutemen communications channel.”** EV announced.  
                The radio dial on his HUD turned, screeching before coming into clarity.  
**“Privyet, comrades. Are we ready for phase two?”** Alexsandr asked.  
                Despite their argument and previous hostilities, it was abundantly clear they’d have to work together to fulfil their common goal.  
“Affirmative.  Use everything you’ve got!”  
                Alexsandr chuckled before a heavy clank came through the channel, **“Fire…I’ve got a lot of fire.”**

**…**

Artyom sprinted across the battlefield, jumping over a fallen pole.  He kept his shotgun level as his knees met his chest, meeting the Brotherhood soldier known as Knight Rhys behind a bus.  
“Come here often?”  He leaned around the corner and aimed at a Raider’s chest, sending a spray of bullets through his rib cage.  
“Funny.” Rhys joined him in his assault.  
                Rippling material and jingling metal came from their right, and Alexsandr pushed ahead.  His pilot light lit at the end of his flamethrower with a flick of his thumb, bringing a smile across Artyom’s face.  
“Your guys’ plan to obscure our movements is to just burn them all?” Rhys asked, reloading his weapon.  
“Nyet.” Artyom prepared himself to advance with his brother, “Let me ask you this: What comes after fire?”  
                He pushed himself off the side of the bus, dashing to take cover at the bottom of a Minuteman statue planted in the middle of the plaza.  He was directly behind Alexsandr.  
                The nose of his flamethrower swung from left to right, the tip of his fiery tail fading from blue to red.  It was as if he’d turned on a screeching faucet, drenching the Raiders in flaming water.  
                Some of them escaped, retreating to a small room within a Red Rocket station.  
                Black clouds choked the clearing, and he was thankful he had his gas mask on.  More so, he was pleased to see the rest of them listened when he recommended they do the same.  
“Smoke?!” Rhys yelled from across the clearing, a slight cough in his words.  
                Artyom grinned, moving from cover to cover to get closer to his brother.  
                Alexsandr pushed his flamethrower just meters away from the door the Raiders clustered behind.  
_“A grave mistake.”  
_                 The lot of them screamed.  Howled.  
                Burned.  
                And those brave enough to push forward met the same fate as Alexsandr swept the area like a turret.  
A shout came from Artyom’s left, and he swung his shotgun around.  A Raider ran at him with a hatchet, his skin yellow and sickly.  
                A red laser met his chest.  He glowed orange, then red, and then was reduced to ash.  
**“I’ve got your six. Go!”** Rhys called.  
“Spaceebah.”  
**“…You’re welcome?”  
**                 He pushed past a brick pillar lined with pock marks, placing his back at Alexsandr’s.  They aimed outwards, forming a “V” shape with their line of fire covering each other’s flanks. The pile of dead, burning bodies in the station added to the darkened cloud overtaking the plaza, giving a false pretense of nightfall.  
“What took you so long?”  
                Alexsandr released another stream of fire at a Raider that pushed forward and another that seemingly fell from a building into his trajectory.  
                Artyom shot at two Raiders pushing from around a vehicle, exploding their heads and bathing the cement in blood.  
                He looked at Alexsandr from the corner of his eye, “Covering your ass, idiyot.”  
“Kha.” Alexsandr huffed, “Preston, do you see your signal now?”  
**“I thought I smelled something funny.”** He joked, **“Here we come!”**

 

...

 

                EV held her hand up and closed her fist.   
“Remember Pilot Lastimosa’s warning.” The three mechanical triangles over her glowing eye narrowed, almost like she was angry.  
                She reached behind her back, pulling the large gun off its mount and swinging it to her front.  
“Stay behind me.”  
                Preston’s shoulders hunched forward, ready to break into a run.  
“Sure thing.”  
“That makes two of us.” Cait snickered, “Raiders are gonna have a real problem with this bucket of bolts.  Fightin' a robot's no better than punchin' a trash can.”  
                Preston pursed his lips, “I don’t think they’ll be doing much punching, do you?”  
“Spare robot parts are worth their weight in gold. I'm just sayin' they’ll try.”  
                EV charged ahead, coming in from the opposite direction that the Brotherhood had.  She rounded the corner, and they used her body as cover.  Bullets bounced off her armor, chipping the paint away and screeching through the air.  
                A rippling wave sprang from her hand, catching the fired ammunition and launching it back at the Raiders.  
“Take cover!” Preston yelled, trying not to get hypnotized by his interest in the foreign technology. **  
**                 Despite EV covering them in the front and the others engaging in their own battles, their flanks were suppressed by rapid fire.  
                But this was what he was good at.  Picking out the strength of the pack in the midst of chaos.  Focusing on the critical targets and prioritizing under pressure.  Holding his breath, and hitting his mark.  
                He crouched, stabilizing the long barrel of his laser musket.  The unpinned side of his slouch hat kept the sun from his vision.  He lined up the sights.  Led the shot.  
                A red line streaked from his musket, zipping over the plaza.  The Raider’s head burned red, fading to orange and exploding above its hip-firing body.  
“Nice goin’ hot shot!”  
                Cait did what _she_ was good at – charging into battle recklessly and unpredictably.  
                Her enemies had a tendency to underestimate her because of her Vault suit.  
                Then they had a tendency to die.  
                Preston ran to the right, using the break in firing to find new cover.  There was a boulder splattered in blood, sitting in the shadow of Lexington’s monument to the original Minutemen.  
                There was something romantic about it; defending Lexington next to a statue of his distant brother in arms.  
                The Minutemen had a legacy to uphold and an area to secure.  
                Cait fired as she backed up, taking cover behind him.  She leaned around the base of a broken lamp post, yelling as she reloaded.  
“They can’t see a damned thing!  They’re takin’ pot shots!”  
                Through the fire and flames; through the Brotherhood’s lasers and the small missiles that EV fired, his targets shot blindly.  
                Gave their position away.  Allowed him to snipe them off – one exploding, laser-shot body at a time.  
                Preston looked out from under the pinned side of his hat, watching his ashen masterpiece work itself out.  
“Another one for the Minutemen!”

 

…

 

                Danse marched through the flames.  Blood splattered his left eye cover, making it even more difficult to see.Having EV finally enter the mix gave him a sense of relief, and Preston’s marksman skills on the field would surely help reduce the Raiders.  
“Another one for the Minutemen!” **  
**                 Danse’s Power Armor barely fit behind the vehicle that covered them.  He peaked, taking a shot at a man.  In front of the car, Haylen and Cait were pinned down behind two pillars.  
 “Are we keeping track now?”  
                He shot at a pair of Raiders burning and screaming, running towards them like Ghouls set ablaze.  
**“You weren’t?”  
**                 Liera ran along the rooftop, coming out of her active camouflage and punching a Raider off the edge.  
**“Falling target on me!”  
**                 A red line connected with the body, and it burnt hot before becoming sprinkling ash.  
**“Nice one, General.”** She complimented him, jumping and landing out of view.  
                Danse huffed, shooting at another troop.  
**“I’m on a roll!”** Rhys yelled.  
**“Need some of that over here!”** Cait called out.  
                Rhys fell back while Alexsandr and Artyom held the front lines.  Danse turned to find a new squad of Raiders pushing from a building.  
“Fight to the last man!” He ordered, “General, think you can snipe the scumbag at our 11?”  
                Preston leaned forward to get a better view.  A bullet ricocheted, and he jumped backwards.  
“Cover me!”  
                He turned his barrel towards the car, planting it over the hood.  His eyes lined up with the shot, and in a moment of courage, ignored the gunfire clanking around him.  
                Danse pushed off, rising from his cover.  
                Bullet spray peppered his suit, and while it threw off his aim, it didn’t stop his march towards the thick of the conflict.  
“Are you mad?!” Cait hollered, using the distraction to land her own shots.  
                Haylen shot another Raider, “Let him do his thing!”  
                Preston moved forward, crouching behind a different form of cover.  
                A red light trailed from his gun, and the enemy sniper disintegrated.  
“You _are_ a good shot.” Danse pressed his back to the side of the Minuteman statue, eyeing a new pair of Raiders.  
“Don’t I know it!”  Preston tried to move, but jumped as he was almost hit, “I can’t relocate!”  
“I’m going to push from the right, and then you can-“  
                Two missiles squealed over them, hitting the Raiders and sending a cluster of rubble raining down.  
**“Targets destroyed.”** EV announced.  
                Danse looked back at Preston, “Or that…”  
“Let’s move!”  
                A crunch separated itself from the rest of the battle.  Heavy, mechanical movements that didn’t come from Alexsandr, himself, or the Titan reaping havoc upon Raider parasites.  
                EV stopped and pointed her hub at an alley.  A small explosion rattled her shoulder, and her lens narrowed before returning fire.  Still, her focus shifted back to the same corridor.  
_“Liera-“  
_                 Taking the risk of exposing his own nuclear core to gunfire, he turned on his heel and took off towards the direction that seemed to be distracting her.  
                There, in the narrow space between buildings, Liera danced with a Raider adorned in their own perverted form of Power Armor.  
“HEY!”  
                He fired, clipping the Raider’s shoulder…and it distracted _her_ more than the enemy.  
                She was on the ground.  
                Danse’s breathing halted, but his legs wouldn’t.  Couldn’t.  The world shook as each step rattled his suit.  His rifle bounced on the pavement.  He’d get it later.  
                He needed both hands free to completely demolish the person about to kill someone he cared about.

 

…

 

                The Raider’s Power Armor was a heap of unrefined, rusted parts.  There were jagged edges from snipped cage bars for shoulder pads and a face guard.  It was a patchwork abomination that was set on killing her…but his weapon looked out of place amidst all of his gun-wielding associates.  
                EV picked it apart on her visor, rebuilding in in the form of holographic displays of mechanics and functionality.  
_“Steel bar.  Long handle.  Blunt head.  A trigger in the middle that fires a…rocket?”  
_                 The Raider beat the ground behind him, slamming the hammer twice and leaving pock marks in the cement.  The rocket fired, pushing the head farther below the surface.  He let out a roar and swung at her with both hands.  
                She leaned back, and the sizzling air cracked in the hammer’s jet stream.  
“EV, what the fuck is that thing!?”  
                He swung it around, coming back for its missed mark - her.  
                Liera crouched forward, dodging the blow.  
“Pilot Lastimosa, please be advised that the Raider has a rocket-assisted sledgehammer capable of exerting upwards of 2,000 pounds of force upon impact.  Combined with the capabilities of Power Armor, said impact would occur with 1828.3 kilogram-meters per second of momentum, and 197,632.9 Joules of kinetic energy.  This weapon far exceeds the average survivable thresholds of a standard huma-“  
“WORDS, EV!”  
“Summary: It is capable of breaking through your Pilot’s helmet and removing your head from your shoulders.”  
                Her heart tripped, and she swallowed hard, “Oh.”  
“HEY!” _  
_                 A laser bounced off the Raider’s shoulder, temporarily blinding her.  She shielded her eyes, looking for the source.  
                The head of the hammer caught the back of her ankle, and the Raider pulled.  She landed on her back and froze as he lifted the sledge over his shoulder in a plummeting arc.  Her knees pushed apart.  The head impaled the cement, sending scraps of rock over her suit.  
                She scolded herself for the distraction, and snarled at the helmet aiming at her by her feet.  
                Liera kicked off the cage that shielded the Raider’s face, rolling backwards and crouching on her feet.  
                The hammer was lodged between them.  His hands were still on the handle.  Her Wingman was ready to fire, however pointless it might be.  
                She wasn’t given the chance.

 

…

 

“Optimized bracers fully functional,” flashed on Danse’s HUD. _  
_ He planted a foot to his front, bringing his body in a full swing.  The Raider’s armor crinkled and imploded.  Chunks of plating shot like shrapnel through a small cloud of dirt, dust, blood – a gun being dislodged from the Raider’s holster; all of it bridging the gap between his fist and the flung suit of Power Armor he hit.  
“Mother fuck-“  
                The Raider bounced, knocking more plates of armor from his leg.  He rolled, grabbing a pipe from a pile of crumbled building.  
“I’m gonna…” He sounded exasperated, using the pipe to stand himself up, “Fuck…you…UP!”  
                He swung, and Danse swiped at his arm with his own, sending him off balance.  He grabbed his shoulders, bringing his knee to the Raider’s chest.  He stumbled backwards, and Danse found his head in his hands.  He took a step and yanked him to the side.  
                The Raider tripped and wobbled, head exposed.  Danse threw the helmet behind him, and raised his fists.  
“Not bad for a Brotherhood bit-“  
                Danse punched him in the chest like a piston on overdrive.  He buckled over his knuckles, and Danse withdrew for another.  This time, when his fist met the space under his neck, he used it to pin him against a wall of a building.  
                His eyes were bloodshot and sunken.  He had a crazed look about him, unfearingly taunting and smiling back.  A small trickle of blood left the corner of his lips, and he spit a glob of it to his side.  
“Hope that Armor’s as good as the last Brotherhood fucker I killed…”  
                Still held against the wall, his arm twitched and sparked as he brought a grenade to his mouth.  
                His teeth closed around the pin.  
                Blood came next, blinding him in a red explosion of bits of skull and brain tissue.  The sounds of flesh splitting from its host came through the burst.  
                There was no explosion, only a fit of rage coming through his radio.

 

…

 

                They fought like two small Titans, and Danse had come like a battering ram.  Liera shook herself to attention, pushing the near-death experience to the back of her head to be dealt with later.  
                She hit the ground with her stomach, covering her head as a piece of the Raider’s Power Armor shot down the alley and connected with a Raider on approach.  
                The sledge’s handle stood straight in front of her, its head still lodged firmly in the cement.  She looked at it and back to the helmetless Raider Power Armor that Danse continued to beat the shit out of.  
_“Combined with the capabilities of Power Armor…”  
_                 She used the handle to stand up, and ripped it from the ground, weighing it between her palms.  
_“…Or a cybernetic arm.”  
_                 Her right hand molded around the rocket’s trigger.  
“Heavy ordinance detected.” EV warned.  
                An orange sonar pulse highlighted a grenade near the Raider’s mouth.  Liera shot her grapple at the wall Danse had him secured against.  
                She wallran, keeping the hammer’s head pointed downwards.  
_“Like running with a Titan battery.”  
_                 She pulled the handle back, her left fingertips gliding along the building while her metal pair squeezed.  
                The rocket fired.  It connected with the Raider’s head.  It split from its body, flying high above the battlefield she returned to.  
                Liera double jumped, pulled her Hemlok around to her side, and let the rifle’s sling hold it in place.  She shot the grenade, falling from the head that continued to soar.  It exploded above the conflict below.  She grinned, her feet meeting the side of another building and pushing her through the smoke.  
“Nice shooting, Pilot.”  
                The brick in front of her chipped and split as a Raider fired in her trajectory.  A snarl formed between her scrunched nose and pursed lips, and she spotted her assailant below.  
                He was out of reach, and Liera didn’t want to lose her new favorite weapon in favor of switching to a gun.  
                She threw the sledge forward, jumping to the right from the building and into the battlefield’s airspace.  She eyed her mark carefully, and when the hammer reached the distance she desired, her grapple’s tether caught the trigger.  
                The rocket mechanism activated.  She twisted, grabbing the snapping cord with both hands, her body spinning above the chaos below like a dreidel.  She sent the blunt missile forward.  It broke through another human head, only slowing briefly before accelerating into an upwards arc.  The handle met her palm, and the tether retracted.  
“DOUBLE DOWN!”  
                Liera hit the ground and broke into a slide, slamming the head into the dirt like a brake.  She pulled forward to get herself on her feet.  
                She was only a few yards away from another Raider.  
“Do you like the sight of your own blood?!” He shouted, aiming down his sights.  
“Do you like seeing at _all_?!”  
                The blunt end of the sledge hammer buried itself in his face.  The cloth sack he wore over his head seeped red, small sprays leaving the sides.  
                A Raider shouted from behind.  She kicked the body off her weapon, and turned to find him swinging a rusted crowbar up and over his shoulder.  
“Let’s see how _you_ deal with having one arm-“  
                Her prosthetic whipped the firing sledgehammer in a circular motion. It caught the crook of his elbow, and his forearm disappeared.  She jabbed at his stomach with the head, and he buckled forward.  She lifted him up and over her, slamming his back on the ground.  
                She yanked the handle, dislodging her weapon from the pool of guts at her feet.  
“WHO’S NEXT?!”  
                Two men charged to the middle of the plaza, dodging and weaving shots fired by the rest of the team.  
“Never should have come here!”  
                She hit her cloak, and one of the men looked around confusedly.  
                Liera closed the gap between them, winding the sledge backwards.  
“You shouldn’t have, either.”  
                She swung, knocking another Raider’s head off his shoulders.  The sledge kept going, and she used the momentum to find the other enemy.  With one swing, she’d dismantled both men.  
**“Now _that’s_ Commonwealth justice!”** Preston laughed.

 

…

 

                Danse recovered his laser rifle, watching the onslaught from the mouth of the alley.  Liera was on a rampage; covered in blood and gore with no signs of slowing down.  
                The near-death experience did far from inhibit her to continue fighting in their own Battle for Lexington.  It fueled her, just like his need for vengeance fueled him…  
                But watching her deliver her own justice with an iron hand made him giddy.  
                Another Raider yelled as he challenged her.  
                He watched on as the man shot at Liera, missing his mark and cursing her speed gifted to her by the jump kit on her waist.  She stopped a short distance near him, raising the hammer like an axe.  
                The Raider dropped his weapon and looked up at the hammer head that would be his end.  
                He gave up.  Started to fall to his knees.  
                But she brought it down, and he didn’t make it to the ground before he was beheaded.  
                Shots came from above, rapid in sound and heavy in their hits.  
                Danse snapped into action, charging without hesitation to cover the rest of them.  
**“They’ve got a turret!”** Artyom called, sliding to take cover.  
                A tractor trailer hung on a building like a scarf, the cabin of it dangling just next to the turret.  A collapsed chunk of freeway held it in place high on a roof.  Whoever set it online had the high ground, and the advantage.  
                Danse shielded his face as the bullets hit his Power Armor, and his HUD flickered.  The icon for his right arm started blinking, and he ducked back behind the corner of a building that helped form the alley.  
**“Target acquired.”  
**                 The missile launchers posted on EV’s back extended, and she held her position.  Rockets flew from the pods, their smoke trails thickening as they faded.  
                There was a loud pop.  Billowing fire that poured from the truck’s depths.  Clouds of smoke that darkened the embers separating from the burst.  Metal parts showered on the battlefield carpeted with dismembered bodies.  
                A black silhouette of a Pilot ran up the truck’s curved trailer through the thick blanket of burning fog, wielding a hammer and ignoring the immediate danger she put herself in.  
**“How many of those Corvega fusion engines do you think they still have in the assembly plant?”**             If anyone but Liera had asked the question, perhaps he wouldn’t have been so alarmed.  
“If they have Power Armor, they probably kept as many as they could.” Danse frowned, “But it’s the raw materials we need to be cautious of.”  
**“Rodger that.”  
  
**

…

 

                Liera sprinted up a ramp formed by a fallen roof.  It was blue and orange, and formed a bridge to the freeway.  She crouched and running behind the cement barriers on either side.  The Corvega Assembly Plant loomed behind Raider-made fences, built of sheet metal and rotted wood.  
                She put the sledgehammer on the ground, switching to her Hemlok.  
“EV, give me a sonar scan.”  
                Immediately, EV’s orange circle sprung from her location.  It dug deep in the facility, highlighting hundreds of Raiders and dozens of explosive objects or materials.  
“They’ve got a small army here…”  
                The pure manpower of them matched even the Brotherhood.  All they were missing was a floating ship and a Pilot-Titan duo from outer space.  
                They poured from the various doors like roaches, scurrying and scuttling on the plant’s metal walkways.  
_“This could last for hours…and there’s too many of them.”  
_                 But they hadn’t left their post just yet.  They were grouped together.  
                Easy to kill.  
                She jumped as a metal pair of footsteps rattled to her right, and was relieved to find Danse making his way up to her.  
“Don’t shoot,” He panted, crossing a meshed bridge, “It’s just me.”  
“How’d you get up here?” She lowered her Hemlok.  
“Took the stairs…like normal people.”  
                A sniper round broke through a wall of sheet metal and buried itself on the opposite side of the concrete barrier that covered them.  
“Thanks for giving our position away, Mr. Power Armor…”  
                He grunted, crouching next to her, “I wanted to make sure you didn’t do anything brash.”  
“Look, we’ve got to do something about the assembly plant.  Even if we somehow manage the funnel them all into Lexington, half of our squad is gonna be too burned out to survive.  And EV can’t stay here without tearing down the whole city.”  
                They raised their guns simultaneously and shot back at the Raiders across the chasm between the freeway and the Raider stronghold.  
“What’s your plan?!” He yelled over their combined gunfire.  
“Hold this for me, will ya?”  She slung her rifle, and tossed him the sledgehammer, “And don’t lose it like Rhys lost my shotgun, eh?”

 

…

 

                Liera turned her back on the Raiders, and sprinted towards Lexington.  
“What?!” Danse pressed his side against the barrier, hiding his head, “Where are you going?!”  
**“To tear down the assembly plant instead.”  
                ** She vaulted off the freeway, leaving him alone to deal with the suppressing fire by himself.  
**“Holy mother of God-“** Preston whispered through the comms.  
**“What is the little robot doing?!”** Alexsandr shouted.  
                Danse’s first clue came in the form of white exhaust and rasping engines.  Large rockets coughed to life, choking and cackling as they came closer.  
                EV’s silver chassis rose slowly into view from underneath the freeway, her back-mounted thrusters firing much harder than they had when she made the simple jump before.  
                Danse only got a glimpse of Liera in the cockpit before the doors finished closing.  
                He gulped.  
_“Oh, no…”_

 

…

 

                The ocular panels shook violently from EV’s ascent, twitching and ragged along the edges.  
_“I don’t know how Miller and AJ do this all the time.”  
                _ She ignored the shouts from the radio channel, perfectly content with hitting the others with shock and awe.  
“Airborne systems are in your control, Pilot.” EV’s voice was muffled by her own flight systems, “Flight Core: Energized.”  
“Alright, girl.”  EV rose higher above the freeway, and Liera laughed as the Raiders scrambled to take cover, “Keep us in the air.”  
                She took a deep breath through her nose, and out through her mouth.  Her fingers extended and clenched, her thumbs resting on the two buttons on top of the handles in her palms.  
“Let’s do this.”  
“Flight Core: Activated.”

 

…

 

                The fire coming out of EV’s jets toggled from orange to blue.  The two black rectangles that framed her gun’s mount unfolded from her back, pointing over her shoulders.  The flaps on their ends opened, and scopes popped up on top of them.  
                A cluster of rockets flew to the left of the Corvega Assembly Plant.  They were faster than the type she typically used.  Longer.  Hit with a harder impact.  
                An explosion rippled the side of the plant, shattering the beams surrounding various pipes and storage baubles.  Detonations flared as EV rotated to the right, sweeping over the central-most areas of the plant.  Windows burst as internal fires busted through.  
                Danse lowered his rifle, slowly rising to his feet.  
                In that moment, every death his team had suffered; every hardship the Commonwealth dragged them through seemed justified.  An accumulation of heartache, guilt, and overwhelming fury – it was lost in each direct hit that rained from above.  
                EV planted her hand in front of her as her feet met the freeway, almost knocking him off balance.  The flames from her back quieted, giving way to more exhausted fumes. **  
** A winding sound came from deep within EV’s mechanical heart, and she straightened from her crouched position. **  
“They stole this city.”  
**                 The stream of exhaust released a large plume before reversing.  Six vents opened, and sucked the air back in.  
**“We came here to steal it back…”**  
                EV’s ocular hub flipped.  The grey orb turned the faintest of red until it glowed like a burning sun.  
**“…And to make sure they can never steal it again.”**  
                She took a step back.  Four metal hooks unfolded from each of EV’s feet and impaled the cement, anchoring her in place.

…

 

                Liera’s left elbow rammed in a slot behind it.  
“Left foot anchored.”  
                And then her right.  
“Right foot secured.”  
                A message blinked on her HUD, “Vanguard Core Swap: SUCCESSFUL.”  
“Laser Core: Ready.”  
                Liera leaned forward, gripping the control stick with both hands.  
“Aim for the heart.”  
                Three red lines splintered from EV’s beam splitter, pinning each side of the marked stockpile of fusion engines that had remained marked ever since the sonar pulse results were posted.  
                The final blow to the plant to make sure that no one, ever again, would use the fortress against the people of the Commonwealth was in its final stages.  
“Laser Core: Activated.”                 
                The markers met.  
                A thick red line spiraled from EV’s core, breaking through the first layer of reinforced room.  
                Liera grit her teeth to keep the laser steady.  The cockpit shook, the hooks and zippers of her suit rattling against the silver bracers that kept her in place.  
                She pushed forward on the control stick, and the beam grew in strength.  
“Pushing against last barrier.” EV announced, “Warning: Laser power levels critical.”  
                Liera swallowed and closed her eyes.  She pushed forward on the stick, and the bottom met the edge of the panel.  
“Laser Core at maximum power.  Cockpit coolant activated.”

…

 

                Flames shot from the top of EV, air still being sucked in from the bottom.  The laser coming from her eye was almost too bright to look at, only matched by the growing flames in the middle of the assembly plant.  
                It broke through each internal wall like an energized battering ram.  
                Danse wasn’t sure what she was aiming for, but he was pleased at the result.  
                The laser pushed through another wall.  A white flash blinded him for all but a few seconds, and a stampeding cloud pushed through the freshly soldered hole.  
                The burst was small at first, as if set on a delayed timer.  The toxic fumes that rode the clouds of ember and smoke washed over him in a nuclear breeze.  The blast grew in size, tripling in bubbles of hot aftermath.  
                A ring swept over the lands below, sending the debris around him airborne.  
                The smell and tang of burning metal made his heart skip.  The outcries of each Raider inside screaming and dying rose the hairs on his skin.  
                He shed a tear at the beauty of it all.  
                The mushroom cloud.  The way the fire left nothing untouched.  
                It was a sight to be seen, and he was honored to witness it firsthand.

 

…

 

                Clear cylinders opened along the street below the freeway.  Red robots with yellow strips across their head labeled, “FIRE,” began their crawl towards the assembly plant.  
“Protectron: On Duty.  Protect and serve.”  
“Hard hats are required while within a work site.  Please wear your hard hats.”  
“This work site has gone zero days without an incident.”  
“Warning: Union violation detected. Last recorded break was 9,999 hours ago.”  
                Their voices were excruciatingly annoying.  Each word was cut off like it was the end of their sentence.  Much to Liera’s surprise, they began putting out the fires…  
                The fires _she_ started.  
                She unbuckled herself in the cockpit, jumping out of the steaming opening that EV provided.  Liera looked at her as she closed the doors, black singe marks around her blinking hub.  
“We did good, EV.”  
                She gave Liera a thumbs up, forcing a smile from her.  
                Her lens widened as if she’d been caught doing something wrong.  Danse’s Power Armor marched, and Liera turned to face her probably-infuriated-commanding-officer.  
“How much trouble am I in?”  She gulped.  
                He stopped, gazing over his shoulder at the burning plant.  She joined him, the sweat of being in an overheated cockpit still clinging to her cheeks.  
“None.” He turned back to her, the fire burning in his Power Armor’s eyes, “None at all.”  
“Good.” She put her hands on her hips, nodding to the burning building, “Because that’s what _we_ call Frontier justice.”  
                A message chirped on Liera’s HUD, interrupting their moment of understanding.  
“Shit…It’s Maxson.”  
                Danse took his helmet off, holding it at his hip.  
“Go on.  Answer it.”  
                Liera sighed, “Alright…”  
                The message came through static bursts caused by EV’s radio tuning.  
“Danse?” Maxson all but shouted, “Danse, can you hear me?”  
                His stare was lost in the flames, “Yes, Elder Maxson.”  
“Would you like to explain to me _what_ is going on in Lexington?”  
                Danse’s shoulders remained still under the Power Armor, but when he closed his eyes, she could hear the deep breath he took in preparation for the call.  
“We’ve secured the city of Lexington from the Raiders who murdered Knight Worwick and Brach.”  
                Maxson exhaled into the microphone, “WHY?”  
“In order to lift the embargo, my team and I agreed to help the Minutemen retake a top-priority location designated as the Castle.  Lexington was on the way.  Their settlements-“  
“I don’t give a DAMN about their settlements!” He screamed, “Your instructions, were _clear_.  You were to rendezvous with General Garvey, and convince him to lift the embargo through force or otherwise…Instead, you've decided to become their gun for hire.”  
                Danse cocked his chin, mulling over his words.  
“I’m extremely disappointed in you, Paladin.  Every loss we take compromises our position here in the Commonwealth. I will not tolerate failure.”  
“Failure?”  
“Yes.  Failure to follow a simple set of instructions.  You were in command of this mission, therefore the burden of this _failure_ rests squarely on your shoulders.”  
                Liera’s heart hurt for him.  She felt responsible.  
                How many times has he been scolded by his boss, and friend, because of her?  
“Danse…” She whispered, “Maybe I should-“  
                He held up a hand, and she swallowed the rest of her words.  
“I stand by my actions. Sir.”  
                Her brows creased, and she squinted.  
_“Is he arguing with Elder Maxson?”  
_                 A heavy silence worked its way on the other end of the radio transmission.  
“Do you?”  
                The simple words from Maxson struck fear in her.  
“Well, if nothing else, you have the courage to stand your ground...Still, that doesn't absolve you from your mistake.”  A lighter sparked, and Maxson pulled a deep inhale, “Fortunately, this incident doesn't change our current strategy.  It does, however, delay the completion of our special project.  Proctor Ingram will fill you in on the details.”  
                Danse twitched, almost as if hurt by what Maxson had to say.  
                From what she’d gathered, Danse and Ingram were close friends.  
_“And he just got reamed in front of her.  And me.  Again.”  
_                 Ingram cleared her throat, “Yeah, so…Listen.  As much as I hate to admit it, the power systems in question are out of my league.  What we need is a robotics expert, and there's someone in Diamond City that fits the bill.”  
“Robotics expert?” Liera asked, immediately regretting interrupting her, “You already _have_ a robotics expert…”  
“This isn't a conversation that requires your input, Knight.” Maxson scolded, “It's not up for judgment or debate.”  
                Her fists squeezed tight, and she laughed quietly out of anger.  Danse shook his head, giving her “the look.”  
“As I was saying…” Ingram continued, “Her name's Professor Scara. Locals say she's a wizard when it comes to fixing robots.  Why don't you head over there and see if you can talk her into helping us?”  
“Given the proper motivation, I'm certain she can be persuaded to see things our way.”  Maxson followed up the request with his typical underhanded threat, “We have great plans for Professor Scara, including the resurrection of one of our greatest creations.”  
“Will she be harmed if she doesn’t cooperate?” Danse boldly asked.  
“I'm giving you a direct order, Paladin, and I expect you to follow it without question.”  
                Danse seemed to be letting Maxson get to him, too.  
“Oh, and take EV with you.” Ingram added, “Once she sees her, I'm pretty sure she'll have a tough time saying no.”  
“Will do…” Liera mumbled.  
“You will find Scara in Diamond City.  You will so inconveniently assist Preston in his retaking of this ‘Castle,’ _without_ Brotherhood support. And then you will immediately return to the airport for debriefing.  Do I make myself clear?”  
“Yes, Elder Maxson.”  
“Good. You have your assignments, soldiers.  Move out.”  Maxson hesitated, “And Danse…”  
                His words were angrier than before.  
“ _Don’t_ disappoint me again.”

…

 

                Danse and Liera walked down the metal fire escape leading back to the others.  
“Danse…” She called from behind him.  
                He was all but running from her.  
“Danse.”  
                She reached out with her prosthetic, hooking it on his arm.  He jerked forward, giving her the nastiest look.  
“I’m sorry.”  
                His face crinkled, “For what?”  
“Getting you into this.”  
“I didn’t agree to these terms for _you._   I would never put my team’s fate on the line to make _you_ happy.”  He ripped his arm out of hers, “If you want to be sorry about anything, be sorry that we’re stuck working for a close-minded, egocentric, brain-washing-…”  
                He caught himself, and looked away.   
“Disregard that.”  Danse continued forward, “We need to join up with the others.”  
                She pulled her helmet off, wiping the blood from the visor and smearing the singe marks along the edges.  
“Yeah…”

 

…

 

                The questions came in waves.  The praise came next.  None of it was unexpected, but all of it was unwelcomed.  
“Guys.  GUYS.” Liera clenched her teeth, “Just…stop.”  
                She rubbed the sides of her head, dehydration setting in.  
“Well I'll be damned.”  Preston surveyed the area around him, his feet kicking up the piles of ashen corpses, “We did it, everyone.”  
“Of course we did.” Rhys unbuckled his rebreather, coughing immediately, “Shit, Garvey, how are you breathing right now?”  
                He looked at Cait and shrugged, “No one said it was easy.  I guess we just came less prepared than all of you.”  
                Liera noticed Artyom and Alexsandr slinking off to a pair of blue doors.  They looked at the group with disdain, although she couldn’t be certain why.  
“This is a victory for your people, despite the toxic fumes that will stretch for miles?” Artyom asked.  
                She swallowed hard, the itching in her throat more apparent than before.  
“The fumes might make them sick, but that’s treatable.” Danse argued, “Getting shot and raided isn’t.”  
“And their water supplies?  Their crops?” Alexsandr scoffed, “Your negligence does not bode well with those of us who depend on the surface to keep its shit together.”  
“Enough with the cryptic nonsense.” Liera spat, “Who are you?  Who are ‘your,’ people?”  
“It would be easier to show you.” Artyom used a miniature pair of bolt cutters to slice a padlocked chain holding the doors together.  
                He turned to face them, standing under a wall-mounted statue of a blindfolded woman holding a scale.  
“Justice is blind, they say.” He put his tools back in his pocket, “And what _I_ say, is that if you must first assist the Minutemen in order for them to comply, then you must also assist those which _help_ the Minutemen move their goods if you want their supplies.”  
                Preston took a step forward, “Senaviev, come on.  I’m sure we can work something else out.”  
                Alexsandr flipped his faceguard above his head.  He had soot all over his pockmarked face.  Burn scars covered his cheeks.  His eyes had sockets around them.  Two thin scars stretched from each corner of his mouth, giving him a gruesome smile.  He had a shallow beard that framed his jawline and ran above his lips.  
                His grey eyes bore into Preston with a handful of disgust, “Artyom and I have already worked something out.  You will all help us cleanse College Square.  Only then we will move goods for the Brotherhood as well as Minutemen.”  
                Rhys sighed, “You’ve gotta be kidding me…”  
“Do I look like I am kidding, pawn?”  
                He greatly outsized Rhys, and even him with his loud mouth decided against continuing the argument.  
“We received orders from Elder Maxson that we must make contact with a person of interest in Diamond City.” Danse growled, “We’ll head there after we help you take care of your issue in Cambridge.  Then retake the Castle.  And after that, our business will be concluded.”  
                Artyom snickered, his ski mask moving under smiling eyes.  _His_ faceguard sat on top of his helmet, too.  
“You have yourself a deal, Paladin.  Now, I believe it is time…”  
                He pushed a hand against the door, holding it open for the rest of them.  
“…To step into the Metro.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Behind the Scenes:**  
>  Check out [Chapter 47](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10296845/chapters/31918983) of _"The Archive,"_ for more screenshots and commentary!
> 
>  **Author's Notes II:**  
>  I saved this one for the end to avoid spoilers, but it's nonetheless very important. You probably already know who I'm going to talk about and why by now, but **MjrGenMatt** played a crucial role in the development of this chapter.
> 
> By utilizing his magical engineer powers, he helped me bring validity to the destruction of the Corvega Assembly Plant, and even took the time to calculate the physics of the super-sledge. The dialogue line where EV goes off on her fact-rant was 100% written by him.
> 
> Matt, thanks again for everything. It turned out so much better with your help.


	30. Luchinushka

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“’By fire and sword we'll take back our world...’_  
>  _Alexsandr believed this, and was ready to die for it._  
>  _But I was filled with doubt. We had already scorched the Earth once._  
>  _Now, the fire was in my hands, and I had to carry it through.”_  
>  -Artyom's Journal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Metro 2033 Theme," linked to corresponding text.
> 
> "Russian National Anthem," linked to corresponding text.

* * *

* * *

                 he Metro may have been hidden underground and neglected by the world above it, but it wasn’t that different from the rest of the Commonwealth.  
                Desolate.  Rotting.  Overshadowed by dangers lurking in the dark.  
                Memories of a bright civilization were retold by ticket booths and boards full of arrival times that never came to pass.  Skeletons, complete and dismembered; large and small - they littered the ground with personal items no longer serving a purpose.  The metal walls were decorated with cobwebs and nests that housed creatures that Liera hoped to never encounter.  
“All sorts of nasty critters in a place like this.” Cait mumbled.  
                The caged service lights faded and came back to life, exposing weak electrical currents.  A breeze swept over one of the vents connected to the outside world.  The draft clogged Liera’s air filter with an aged stench, and the dust made her cough.  
“Masks on.” Artyom unscrewed the filter of his own mask before pulling out a replacement and twisting it in place.  
                He closed the doors behind him, shutting the sunlight out of the station.  He dropped his pack before unraveling the top, retrieving a mask with a huge filter and visor; and a smaller one with a satchel attached to it.  Preston’s face disappeared behind the glass, his mouth replaced by the gas mask’s circular cap.  Cait hooked the small pouch on her belt, its hose tapped to the ventilator strapped between her ears.  
                An eerie whine rasped along the wall, sending a shiver up Liera’s back.  
“Either the ground is making that noise, or the wind.  Also heard tales of singing pipes…” Artyom continued rummaging through his bag, “They say if you listen long enough, you can hear the voices of the dead.”  
                As if to prove him right, the hollow groan intensified into a howl.  EV’s infrared and sonar scanners started flushing the place out.  
                Liera held her breath and started to sweat.  A shiver rattled her hands, and the only thing she wanted to hear then was EV saying, “Welcome back, Pilot.”  
                But EV was far away.  Out of reach.  
                The others were whispering, planning out their course of action.  She tried to tune in and refocus.  The horde of slinking bodies on the opposite side of the stuck train derailed all attempts.  
                One sound broke through.  
                Artyom fumbled with a can.  He shook it vigorously, the ball in the middle breaking up its insides.  He held the tip of it to the door, and a red spray began painting a message.  
                The paint was sinister in the dimly-lit tunnel.  It reminded her of the message they found under Fort Strong.  Her brows creased, and she studied it further.  
                The language itself was unknown to her, formed with oddly-shaped characters that looked like an ancient artform lost to the rest of humanity.  But the way the paint streaked was familiar…  
_“Same composition as the paint under the Fort.”  
_                 She wondered if the others noticed, and decided against voicing her concerns…for now.  
                She stuck close to Danse as they turned to the stairs.  Her laser sight toggled as she rotated in small arches, keeping alert for signs of unwanted company.  The taps of her boots delving deeper into the Metro were loud in the silence.  
“I see some of them.” Danse kept his words quiet, “My signal doesn’t reach as far as yours does.  How many do you see?”  
                Liera tore her thoughts away from the message and down into the depths past the escalator.  
“I see twenty…At _least._   In the trains.  Some _under_ the trains, don’t ask me why.  Others are shuffling around in the station.”  
                She asked the group behind her from over her shoulder, “I thought you said the Feral problem was at the College Square Station?”  
                Alexsandr grunted for confirmation.  
“So what are these doing here?”  
“Ferals, in general, tend to infest these metro tunnels quite often.”  Danse mumbled, “No one really knows why.”  
“Did you know of the nest underneath Cambridge?” Artyom turned to him.  
                Danse’s headlamp shifted, “No.  We thought we could use these tunnels to avoid encounters on the surface, but most of them were flooded or collapsed.  We just noticed a lot of Ferals along the way.”  
“There’s a _nest_ in Cambridge?” Haylen asked, tapping her finger on her chin, “If they’re calling the College Square Station home, that would explain why there’s so many of them near the police station…”  
“They weren’t there before you arrived.” Artyom pulled his pack on his shoulders, “And if all you found were collapsed tunnels, it is because those are the only tunnels we _wanted_ you to find.”  
“They run all around under the city.”  Preston shrugged, “The Spetsnaz were able to excavate the critical rails.”  
“That’s what you guys are calling yourselves?” Rhys snickered, “’Spetsnaz’?  How Russian of you…”  
“We are called the Spetsnaz because our ancestors were Spetsnaz.  Russian special military unit.”  Alexsandr led the way down the stuck escalator, “When China started staking claims to Mongolia before Great War started, United States agreed to joint military operations involving Spetsnaz soldaty.  The Soyuz Sovetskikh Sotsialisticheskikh Respublik-“  
“Sol-wah?” Liera raised a brow.  
“Soldiers.” Artyom clarified, however thick his accent, “Union of Soviet Socialist Republics.  USSR for short.”  
“Ah.”  
                Alexsandr hushed his voice before continuing, “Members of USSR were shunned and distrusted by Amerikantsov citizens after bombs fell and dust settled.  Anyone not native to their country was an enemy.  _Communists_ , they called us.  We took shelter in Metro and cut our way through aftermath.” He pulled his flamethrower in front of him, “It appears not much has changed.”  
“You’re working for the Minutemen, aren’t you?” Rhys sneered, “They’re Americans who trust you.”  
“Generalissimo Glazkov and his Spetznaz do not work _for_ Minutemen,” Alexsandr spat, “We work _with_ Minutemen.”  
“The Commonwealth is a dangerous place.” Artyom aimed down his sights, gently pushing a caged door along its hinges, “The Minutemen require a large amount of goods to be moved in order to keep their settlements well-supplied.  We Spetznaz merely move these goods for them in exchange for whatever it is we need most at the time.”  
“Our Provisioners didn’t fare so well above ground.” Preston verified, his voice muffled behind his mask, “General Glazkov and his Rangers were imperative during the fortification of our settlements.”  
                They passed through the entrance gate, and Artyom held up a hand.  
                A red light slowly rose to full brightness and returned to black.  It continued this breathing pattern, pinned to the back of a derailed train.  It reminded Liera of the special effect Chris’s mechanical keyboard had back home.  
                The clicks drove her crazy, especially when they’d first started working together, even back before they were Pilots.  
                Now, she’d kill to hear it again…  
“I hope your safety's off...” Danse whispered, “This place does _not_ look friendly.”  
“Hey,” Liera cocked her chin, “If anything goes wrong I’ll just blow ‘em up, eh?”  
“These tunnels are highly unstable. I wouldn't recommend the use of high explosives.”  
“I, uh…Got it.”  
                She swallowed the mound of fear stuck in her throat, ignoring the now-angry whispers being exchanged as the group of them returned their sights to the floor.  
“We’ve locked the hatch on either end of the station in an effort to isolate the Cambridge Incident.” Artyom explained, “What you see is what you get.”  
                She gulped.  
_“So many Ghouls, in such a small space…”_  
                No room to jump.  Run.  
                Hide.  
                Flickers of the radiation storm that brought a different horde ran across her eyes.  The sounds they made.  Their hungry growls, the chattering teeth.  Their clawing hands and disjointed limbs.  
“She can turn invisible.” Rhys nodded at her, “And she can see more than any of us can.  She’s more than capable with a gun.  She’s got freaky stim stuff.  It should be her.”  
                Liera shook herself out of the nightmare and regrouped.  
“I should do what now?”  
                The group looked at her in disbelief.  
“Go into the station first to draw their attention away from the door.”  Preston clarified, “If what Knight Rhys says is true, you’re better equipped for it than any of us.”  
“I’ve got more than enough coverage and firepower to do the job myself.” Danse argued, “Her armor isn’t-“  
“You will make too much noise, tin man.  They will slip by and be on our position in seconds.” Alexsandr cut him off, “If that were not the case, I would go in myself.  Surely you know this.”  
“Rhys is right.” Liera did her best to keep her voice even and believable, “I’m stealthy enough to do the job and not get myself killed.”  
                She stood in front of the door with the red light pulsing over a warning written in the strange, jagged alphabet that was Russian.  
“We are all in agreeance, then?” Artyom asked from behind.  
                No one objected.  
“Khorosho.  Off you go.”  He snapped the bolt cutters against the lock, and caught the cut metal before it hit the floor.  
“Godspeed...” Artyom whispered.  
                Her visor switched to night vision.  It was pitch black, save for the red shadows that occasionally filled the tunnel with a nightmarish glare.  It reminded her of an evac flare signaling for pickup.  
_“Man…I wish.”_  
                This wasn’t the radiation storm in Cambridge.  She wasn’t separated from her team.  She wasn’t being hunted by Ghouls she couldn’t see.  In fact, everything was literally the opposite.  
                These were the things she told herself when each click, sputter, and gurgled mess came out of their mouths.  
                None of her friendly reminders worked.  
                Debris shuffled at their feet.  Fixtures were bumped into.  Items were knocked to the ground.  They were clumsy in their docile state.  
_“Cloaking Device at 20%.”  
_                 Her visor’s warning started flashing, signaling the last of her hidden presence.  It was apparent no one knew exactly how Ghouls found their prey, but right now, to them, she didn’t even have a heartbeat.  No heat signature.  She wasn’t there.  
                And she _would_ be in a few seconds.  
                She ducked behind a counter, and squeezed her eyes shut.  She tried to block out the haunting images of the Ghouls she’d encountered at the police station.  Under Fort Strong.  In the storm.  
                She learned that, whether or not her eyes were open, didn’t matter…  
                They never left.  
_“10%.”  
_                 One growl seemed closer than before as if it became fully aware.  On the opposite side of her cover, a Ghoul bumped against the waist-high ledge.  She withheld a whimper, and her entire body started shaking.  
                The Feral stopped, it’s neck slowly turning over its shoulder.  
_“5%.”  
_                 The number flashed above the cloak icon.  The Feral was too close.  It was going to know she was there.  And once _it_ knew, the rest of them would, too.  
_“Cloaking Device deactivated for recharge.”_  
                Her visor flickered and hummed, and she checked to make sure the backlight was off.  Sure, it made the data harder to see…but it also made _her_ harder to see.  
_“Shit, shit, shit-“  
_                 The Feral sniffed, and its glowing eyes started scanning in her direction.  A sound similar to a bird call escaped its throat.  
_“The fuck are you doing? Stop it-“  
_                 Another answered, somewhere on the opposite side of the station.  
_“Stop.”  
_                 The wet chords of its throat hummed angrily.  
  _“Cloaking Device recharge at: 50%.”  
_                 A message window popped up on her screen.  
“Pilot, you will be okay.  Please try to relax.  Heartrate reaching accelerated levels past recommended threshold.”  
                She gulped, and the hook on the end of her rifle’s strap rattled in her lap.  
                The Feral turned away from her, and she couldn’t help but feel a small bit relieved.  Her shoulders relaxed, and the breath she held withdrew slowly between her lips.  
_“You need to get up and shoot at something.”  
_                 Her legs wouldn’t listen.  
_“They’re depending on you.”  
_                 A zombified howl filled her hearing piece and shook her eardrums.  
                It’s eyelids were narrow, and the pupils in them were glowing emeralds set in crimson, bloodshot bulbs.  Glossy bloodstains formed an oval from the tip of its snout, down to its mutated, elongated chin.  Its skin was stretched taught over its crooked skull, or what was _left_ of it.  
                And somehow, it knew exactly where to aim its teeth.  
                Liera screeched, hitting it with the stock of her gun.  The Feral’s mouth missed her neck by inches, and its head bounced off a shelf underneath the counter.  
                She rolled  to her feet and dashed away from the stairs, kiting the horde behind her.  
                She wanted to run to EV, climb into the cockpit, and send as many Thermite barrels as the tunnels could fit down into the station to set them ablaze.  
**_“These tunnels are highly unstable.”  
_**                 Liera cursed under her breath, looking for something- anything – to get her off the ground.  The walls were too low.  She’d seen how these things could jump.  They’d get her as soon as she stopped moving.  
                A Ghoul fell just short of her, chomping and twitching, trying to get itself on its feet.  
                She’d been under the foot of a Leviathan.  Had stood head-on with some of the IMC’s best Pilots, and had even taken down their Titans while being out of her own… _  
“I’m a goddamn Marauder-“  
_                 She grit her teeth, and took blind shots forward.  The slick sound of bullets piercing flesh pushed her courage from the realms of imagination to reality.  
                Liera slid to the corner of the room, repositioning herself and taking to a knee.  
                She shot a Ghoul that got too close, and punched it in the face with her prosthetic when it leapt.  It’s back hit the floor.  Another jumped.  She stepped to the side, elbowing it in the back of its head as its face collided with the wall.  
                Her tech glove met the cement, and she swiped towards the ceiling.  A small particle wall separated her from the rest of them.  Covered her flanks from her cornered position.  
_“’Cornered’…That’s the wrong word.  More like…”  
_                 The blue hexagons twinkled, the energy of her A-Wall rippling through the hardlight seams.  
_“Fortified.”  
_                 Each bullet popped through the shield, super-charged and on a mission to connect with the decaying freaks that charged at her and away from where the rest of them would storm.  
“Position secure.  All units are cleared to engage.” She reloaded her rifle.  
                The door busted open, back behind the bobbing heads that had her hunkered down.  
                A light was small at first; just a blip through her green night vision.  It blossomed until she had to switch it off just to see.  
                Then the green faded from blue, to white…to orange.  
                Danse and the rest of them shot every stumbling, burning piece of filth that had the audacity to attack them with Alexsandr at his side.  The two traded positions; one burning the Ghouls, the other one landing a laser in the chest or head of whatever Feral decided that being set on fire wasn’t a good enough way to die.  
                Danse shoved a Ghoul away with his arm, and shot its jaw off with his laser rifle.  It’s body fell back into a small pile of its brethren.  
                The onslaught was a short one, but she guessed it was a preview of what they were walking into.  
                Danse stood there for a moment, his neck snapping back and forth before locking on her.  
“You good?”  
                She caught her breath, using the stock of her rifle to push her to her feet.  
                Overcoming her fears, even if only temporarily, had never laid a finer mat of carnage.  
“Peachy.”

 _  
_  …

                Artyom stepped over the gap between a lopsided train and the rails below. _  
_ “Through here.” He nodded, “Little robot, at my side.”  
                Liera pursed her lips and rolled her shoulders.  Her barrel pointed at either end of the narrow corridors, coming up empty-handed.  
“Clear.”  
“Good.  Let’s keep moving.”  
                Her flashlight burned on the rusted cylinder and dusty handles hanging from the beams inside.  The cushions were damp and moldy, some weighted down by bones and luggage.  
                The train creaked and leaned to the left.  Liera looked behind her.  
“Sorry.”  Danse moved his other foot onboard, the weight of his suit rocking it again, “This moisture is bad for my Power Armor…”  
“Wrecked trains and waterlogged tunnels.” Cait snickered, “Feels like _home_ to me...”  
“The Metro provides us a safe and judgement-free way of life.” Artyom beckoned them over, “Now, the Brotherhood’s occupation in Cambridge has forced the Feral population to relocate.  They chose to go underground, and the blood of our infirmary drew them to the College Square Station.  You were not there when our comrades were slaughtered…But you will be there to help rectify that error.”  
                Preston, Cait, Rhys, and Haylen climbed in behind them.  
“We didn’t know you existed, much less required our assistance.” Danse said from behind.  
                Liera sighed, not in the mood for an argument.  
“We rang your station, but no one came.  So when the armory emptied, we melted down the bells.” Artyom let his shotgun dangle, sliding a door at the end of one train and stepping into another with Liera close behind, “There was an answer.  And then there was nothing.  We were on our own.”  
“Someone answered your distress signal?” She asked.  
“Dah.  His name was…Alexsandr, what was his name?”  
“Wolfe.”  
“Ah, yes.  Wolfe.”  
                Liera squinted, “Since when was Scribe Wolfe stationed at the Cambridge Police Station?”  
“With Essen in the brig, Maxson thought he needed to keep himself busy…so he gave him a new post.” Haylen answered through their local radio, trailing behind, “He wasn’t happy about it at first. But-“  
“And he ignored you when he answered the call?” Liera interrupted.  
“He did.” Artyom growled, stepping through the door at the end of the corridor.  
                Liera followed, landing on the tracks next to him.  The tunnel ahead was winding and musty, and if it wasn’t for the data on her visor, not being able to see around the bend would’ve been unsettling.  
“Why didn’t you contact the Minutemen?”  
“They did.  We weren’t able to respond in time…” Preston took to their side, his voice muffled by his mask, “We lost contact with them before they showed up in Sanctuary.”  
“A timely arrival, I’d say…” Rhys huffed.  
“We were discussing plans to retaliate.” Alexsandr lifted his visor, spitting on the rails before turning to Danse, “You are lucky you arrived when you did.”  
                He jumped down, “Retaliate?”  
“Occupying Graygarden and shutting out Spetsnaz seen as act of war.” Alexsandr smirked, “We weren’t sure how to deal with machine, but tunnels teach us to be resourceful.”  
“Simple living on an airship makes you resourceful, too.” Rhys snarled behind his mask, “ _Really_ resourceful.”  
“You don’t get to complain about ‘simple living’ on an ‘airship.’  Not with me around.” Liera waved him off, turning her attention back towards Artyom, “What’s done is done.  We’re all friends now, and we’re helping you take back College Station.”  
                She walked past them, “And you can leave Wolfe to _me_ …”  
“Knight...” Danse muttered, “We’ll deal with him through the proper channels.”  
“Yeah, yeah…” She shrugged her rifle’s sling back on her shoulder.  
                She eyed up a mountain of cement, split beams, and crushed pipes, “So, what’s the plan?”  
                Artyom nodded to the right and stepped into a maintenance tunnel.  A light-blue door with its paint flakey and barely hold on waited at the end.  
“It's starting to feel cramped in here…” Danse mumbled, barely fitting through, “Let’s double-time it.”  
                Preston snickered, “If there's a darker, nastier place in the Commonwealth, I haven't seen it.”  
“Probably why those shamblers love to get cozy in these stations.” Cait sighed, “Daft Ghouls…”  
“Hopefully that’s all that’s down here.” Danse huddled his shoulders together, keeping his arms away from the pipes, “You never know what's lurking in these tunnels.”  
“Keep light handy.  You will be fine.” Alexsandr grunted, “Trusy…”  
“What was that?” Rhys shot.  
“If I wanted you to know what I said, I would have said in English.”  
                Artyom put his hand on the door’s handle.  He was hesitant.  Scared, maybe.  
“There’s a saying in the Metro…” He whispered, his accent giving his words an edge, “Best translated, it goes like this: ‘Nothing worse than a chance fellow traveler, but nobody else to rely on, either.’”  
                He pulled the door open, and gently gripped his shotgun with both hands.  The way he stood there – brows creased, stuck in a vision…  
                It silenced the bickering group.  
“We are used to not trusting others implicitly, but if each of us fights on our own, we're going to be nothing more than a free meal for the mutants. And still...” He turned to the rest of them, “I am not sure whom am I afraid more of.”  
                Liera paused, looking down the stairs revealed by the opened door.  To her surprise, the service lights were still running.  If they had discovered a way to keep electricity flowing throughout the tunnels, perhaps they’d been more ‘resourceful,’ than she’d given them credit for.  
“We continue murdering each other with gust, as if we still number in millions.  Only ashes remain of the six billion people that once populated the earth. Ashes and dust. They are all around, they crunch beneath our boots, they disguise themselves as sand and clay. And we richly water them with fresh blood, as if hoping to grow some crops of such soil."  
                He took the first step, his face turning away before all she could see was his neatly rolled bag on his back.  She looked behind her, and Alexsandr shrugged.  
“Always with philosophies, my brother.  Still, he is not wrong.”  He shook his head, “One does not know survival until he must choose between _it_ and death.”  
                His words, and Artyom’s, reminded her of the war being waged back home.  
                The IMC and Militia killing each other over worlds that were meant to be a fresh start; populated with settlers that ran from war.  Who, she wondered, would be left standing when it was through?  
                She cleared her mind of such hopeless thoughts, pointed her light forward, and descended further.  
“EV, keep an eye out for us?”  
“My sonar pulses are limited while traversing the confines of the Metro tunnels.  I will do my best.”  
“How you doin’ up there?”  
“I am currently engaging a group of hostile canines.  I will catch up shortly.”  
                Liera smirked, “What did I tell you about playing with the wildlife?”  
“Nothing.  I have never made attempts at such activities.”  
“Well…Stop it.”  
“Negative.  We are not playing.”  
                Sometimes, feeding into EV’s misunderstanding of a common joke was funny in itself.  
_“She’ll pick up on it, one day.”_

 

…

 

                Whether time abandoned the Metro rails, or escaped them, was undecided.  Derailed trains scattered the tunnels as if they’d rolled over to die; like metal carcasses left for vulture hands to cannibalize for salvage.  
                It was as if the Commonwealth _wanted_ to leave a hollow blueprint of it’s bones, guiding the misplaced surface dwellers to its dying heart.  It was easy to see the appeal to living down there…  
                But it wasn’t what he’d pictured as “home.”  
                It felt like a shelter.  
                That was something Danse could recognize.  Moving from one secure location to the next, all for the means of survival.  Never really living, settling down.  Just hoping that there would be a tomorrow to defend.  Wondering if the same set of faces he’d call friends would be the ones to accompany him, or if he’d be forced to acquaint himself with new people with their corpses at his feet.  
                Haylen and Rhys had made it this far with him calling the shots.  Surrendering control of their fate; of their battle plan – that was something that _didn’t_ sit well.  
                Liera and Artyom took point, her flashlight guiding him along.  
“You sure we’re going the right wa-“ Preston was interrupted by a burst of Hemlok shots, dropping a straggling Feral to soak the planks under the rails.  
                Liera reloaded, pulling the hammer back, “You were saying?”  
                Preston cleared his throat, “I know there’s only two directions to go, but…There’s so many routes to this one.  Are you-“  
“I know these tunnels.” Artyom pulled a pole from the side of his pack, and the tip of it dropped next to his knee, “And they know me.”  
                He held something peculiar in his other hand.  A small flame came to life in his palm, springing from a bullet-shaped lighter.   
“Our guard posts determine who is friend and who is foe by whether or not they wield flame.  Come, we are not far.”  
                The torch’s head caught fire; a metal column leaking gas into the ignition.  It gave the tunnels a soft glow - almost peaceful - and lit up the dripping leaks as if they were drops of melted gold.  The orange, dancing light flickered in Alexsandr’s visor.  
                He was a hardened man.  Two lines were tattooed down to his chin, starting at the corners of his mouth.  A smile was carved in scars on either side of his lips.  His features were his service record, telling the tale of burns, combat, maybe even bullets…  
“By fire and sword, we’ll take back our world...”  
                Alexsandr’s bitter mumblings were unexpected.  He seemed fixated on the fire, as if it was maddening him with its whispers.  
“Tactical flashlights and laser rifles are doing just fine.” Danse snickered.  
                Alexsandr gave him a warm chuckle. It wasn’t the dismissive or sarcastic sort he’d let out before.  Out of all the things to leave his mouth, _that_ sounded the most foreign coming from him.  
“We call our beliefs the Teachings of Luchinushka.  Torch-light.  You see, many prisoners in Russian labor camp named Gulag had tattoos of these torches.  It is a symbol of freedom; to take it in hand and blaze your own path,” He grunted, “Or burn bridges.  Whichever you must.”  
“You model yourselves after prisoners?” Rhys’s headlamp highlighted them as he turned his head.  
“The Metro is _our_ labor camp.  We do not remember trains running on tracks, filling tunnels with noises and lights.  They are wrecks of old world, and we dismember them to craft our homes.”  
“All we amount to now is mere marauders.” Artyom continued, “Searching like thieves, stealing anything that wasn’t stolen from us from the Great War.  And so we remain in this prison.  Our Gulag…Our Metro.”  
                His footsteps clanked as he approached a rusted platform, still connected to the rails.  He reached out and held his lighter in a lantern dangling from a post, lighting the wick and returning his novelty item to a pocket in his vest.  
                Artyom turned down another maintenance shaft, ignoring congealed blood that splattered pipes next to a door.  He opened it, his torch lighting another set of cement stairs in a corridor that Danse almost didn’t fit through.  
                Artyom’s steps were heavy.  His feet had carried him many places, and his fatigue was showing.  
“And even though the Metro kills the belief in miracles, it teaches you to live without hope.”  He turned to look behind him, “Our prison punishes us for our sins.  It has tempered us.  The generations raised without the Sun, but also without fear, will claim the Earth…If given a chance.”  
                How could these people be down here with such an unknown presence, especially having what seemed like a critical impact on the Commonwealth?  
_“And why did Wolfe ignore their hail?”  
_                 It hadn’t been documented.   
                But something he _did_ notice was how Wolfe avoided them during their pit-stop on the way to Sanctuary.   
                Working reconnaissance taught Danse to remember the details that seemed unimportant, for they had a chance of painting a bigger picture.  He only had to fill in the rest of the canvas…  
                Or burn it whole, only to sift the truth from its ashes.  
_“’Whichever I must.’”_

 

…

 

                Liera raised her hand to block out the floodlights.  They came from the top of an arching wall, strong and reinforced.  As the world faded back in from what felt like a flashbang to the face, two shifting figures glared at them from either side of a security door.  
                A man with a furry hat sat at a desk to the left, typing away on a terminal.  He looked up, pushed his glasses up his nose, and went back to losing himself in his work.  
“Artyom!  Alexsandr!” One of the guards called, waving his hand with the scope of his rifle leaning against his shoulder.  
                They had helmets similar to Alexsandr’s, but their armor was much lighter…  
                And they were all speaking in Russian.  
“EV, how’s that lexicon coming along?”  
“Internal linguistics system has found a similar language spoken by the natives of Planet Victor.  I am compiling speech patterns and making grammatical matches at the best of my ability.  However, the infrequent migration patterns of Planet Victor and the few refugees that remained after Operation: Fracture has left my databases with little to cross-analyze.  It will take more time to analyze and build a fully automated translation program.”  
                Liera frowned, and turned towards Danse.  
                He found him watching her, and they had a conversation through their body language…through their silence.  
                A translation wasn’t _always_ necessary…And whoever these guards were, they were happy to see the Senaviev brothers.  
                The feeling seemed mutual, although Alexsandr and Artyom seemed more confused than overjoyed.  The man at the desk was unalarmed, relaxed enough to pay no mind to the group of unfamiliar faces that stood in front of him.  
                That meant that these people either trusted the Senaviev brothers undoubtedly, or they held a higher rank than originally thought.  Either way, this Metro station was far from under siege by a Feral nest.  
                Liera slid open her wrist computer and checked the work-in-progress of a Commonwealth map.  The red dot flashed in Cambridge, not too far from the police station.  
_“Looks like the College Square Station to me…”  
_                 She closed it, and crossed her arms.  
“EV, what are you doing at the police station?”  
“I have delivered information about the situation in Lexington.  They do not seem alarmed, as further analysis of the Militia’s technology has led to a more durable method of fabric refinement.  I have also learned that the Brotherhood has a surplus of air filters, gas masks, and other items with the means of replenishing them with little resource consumption.”  EV paused, “I also denied a Knight’s request to requisition your newly-acquired Super Sledge.”  
                Liera pursed her lips, “Why was he in the cockpit?”  
“He wasn’t.  I opened it to adjust the weapon, as I feared it would collide with our dashboard if not kept secure.”  
                She smirked, “Yeah…Don’t want that banging around in there unchecked, that’s for sure…”  
“It appears our situation has changed.” Artyom rejoined them, leaving Alexsandr to mingle with the guards.  
“I’ll say.” Cait leaned on one hip, “Happier than clams over there.”  
“Hmph.” Artyom smirked, lifting his visor on top of his head, “It appears they were able to push the Ferals out of the station and further down the rails.”  
“That’s good news.” Liera opened her own visor, “Why do you sound upset?”  
“There were…Unique circumstances.  And now the nest is moving as a whole, like a cancerous missile headed straight for the CIT Station.”  He looked away, “Our comrades from the CIT rails pushed from their end while the Rangers that remained here did the same.   Many lives were lost, but the Ferals were stretched too thin.  Once they were centered between the two stations, both sides held their lines while their homes were protected.”  
“And what were the unique circumstances?” Haylen asked.  
“Three men, all wearing long, black coats…” Artyom’s brow furrowed, “Survivors from the conflict say they joined the assault on the Ferals, but…”  
“But?” Preston cocked his chin.  
                Artyom began to pace, crossing his arms and pinching his chin, “They entered the fray through a corridor that’s long-since collapsed.  And then, when the reinforcements arrived from the CIT side of the rails, they returned to there.”  
                His hand waved to the side, “Perhaps they were distracted by battle.  It isn’t safe to say.  But if there are others down here…Others that aren’t Mutants, or Ferals…That could threaten the whole Metro.”  
“Threaten?” Liera raised a brow, “Matching coats means a uniform, so they’re organized, at least.   And if what your men say is true, sounds like they were helping you.”  
                Artyom put his hands on his hips, and looked back towards the station entrance, “Their method of entry and exit is what concerns me…And the people of the Metro have their hands full with one, maybe two, alliances already.”  
                He huffed, turning his head back at the group, “Any more and some may say we’ve gone soft.”  
“Artyom!” Alexsander’s voice boomed, and he waved his large hand at them, “Come!  Uncle Rodion is waiting to meet our new comrades!”  
“Kha, gospodi…” Artyom nodded his helmet towards the entrance gate, “With me.  I will show you around.”  
                Liera waited for the others to continue walking past her, eyed carefully by the now-suspicious guards.  Danse stopped to watch alongside her.  
“Not really sure what to make of all this.” She admitted.  
“If the Brotherhood can handle a pair of unknown visitors from outer space, I’m sure they’ll manage with a few underground colonies.”  
                She grinned, “Hadn’t thought about that.” And then she frowned, “Maxson better leave these people alone.”  
“Relax, Lastimosa.  Despite current events, he’s not as trigger happy as you think he is.”  
“This is an entirely different culture, Danse.” She looked up at him, his large frame towering above, “Different morals and ways of doing things.  And we don’t know a damn thing about them except they’d probably make a powerful ally.”  
                Danse hummed under his breath, “And a very dangerous adversary.”  
                They both turned their attention to the gate entering College Square Station.  Artyom was waiting; probably with growing curiosity as to what the hell was taking them so long.  
“If we can get them on our side, Preston’s forced to fold.”  
                Danse’s helmet snapped to her, “What are you saying?”  
“We need to do a little recon while we’re here.  Figure out what these people need aside from manpower.” She gave him a grin, “Then we can learn how to be more valuable than Preston, because it’s clear who _actually_ holds the power in this alliance of theirs.”  
“Excellent thinking, Knight.”  They started walking to meet Artyom, “And here I thought you were about to switch sides.”  
                Liera laughed, “What did I tell you before?  You’re stuck with me.”  
“And like I’ve told you before…” She couldn’t see his face, but just like she had so many times, _heard_ his smile, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

 

…

 

                There were a lot more people than what she expected, but it wasn’t a bad thing.  There was a man cutting meat, hanging salted slabs behind him.  Another man sat behind desks full of weapons, the lantern underneath him giving him a haunting glow as if he was telling ghost stories rather than running a business.  
                Soldiers mingled with civilians, or at least, that’s what it looked like.  It became increasingly apparent that there was little difference in the two when in the Metro.  
                The station as a whole, though, was built from the skeleton of the original infrastructure.  Wooden shacks were bolted to concrete walls.   Planks bridged the gaps of where rust had filled its belly.  
                There was an upper level to the market area, and clothes were hung to dry on a line that bridged the gap overhead.  
                It was cramped, dark, maybe a little moldy; but life in the Metro didn’t seem too devastating.  
                Still, there was something in the eyes of the Metro dwellers.  A dark instinct that clouded every smile, that bore fangs on every tooth.  These people were survivors…  
                And they were _not_ happy Liera and the rest of them were there.  
“Tin man, come with me.  Leave the suit with our smithy.” Alexsandr unhooked his chest plate, the last of his remaining armor, “Sit with us.”  
                It landed with a loud thump, and the man behind the desk barked something.  Alexsandr raised his hands, easing himself away with a guilty smile.  
_“Man, angry Russians sound horrifying.”  
                _ The electronic pulse of Danse’s Power Suit whined, and he climbed out before the plates shut behind him.  
“I’ll stay here and make sure no one tampers with it.” Rhys offered.  
“Thank you, Knight.  Haylen, why don’t you stay too.”  
“Yes, sir!”  
                He gave them a nod, following the two Russian brothers with Liera close at his side.  They passed Preston and Cait at a general goods stall, and Preston left to join them.  
“Something going on?”  
“I’m not sure yet.” Danse whispered, “Just following Alexsandr.”  
“Never a good idea.”  
                Shouting and hollers came from ahead, and they found themselves standing in a clearing surrounded by tables and barstools.  
                Danse looked to Preston, “I’m learning that.”  
“Uncle Rodion, you-“ The word Alexsandr used was barely audible, “How are you?!”  
                Rodion answered him in Russian, and Liera sighed.  
_“Any day with that translator, EV…”  
_                 Preston, Danse, and Liera sat on the opposite side of the circular table.  Rodion was in between Alexsandr and Artyom, calling the bartender over with a smile and wave.  
                Her clothes left little to the imagination, and she looked like as what most men would find “perfect.”  
“What do we have here?”  She purred, the accent of her people sounding less hostile than her male counterparts’, “Garvey, my sweet thing, why have I told you about traveling with these feral dogs?”  
“Warned me right, ma’am.” Preston nodded, “They’re nothing but trouble.”  
“Yes, yes, danger at every turn, that sort of thing.  What will you be…” Her ice-blue eyes locked on Danse, a thick lip escaping biting teeth in a taunt.  
“And who might this be?”  
                She slowly walked around the table, her hips swaying methodically with each step.  
                Danse’s shoulders immediately clammed up, leaning away from her as she planted a hand on the table and all but shoving her cleavage in his face.  Her lips fell just short of his chin, staring him down with a dangerous smile.  
“Brotherhood soldier in the Metro…My, have I heard the _stories_ about your people…”  
                Liera bit the inside of her cheek, feeling a familiar twitch in her nose.  
                Danse gulped, doing his best to keep his assaulted eyes on hers, “Paladin Danse, ma’am.”  
“So proper, too…unlike these hounds.” She scoffed at the Senavievs.  
“Ey, Sveta, go easy on him.  He is a fragile man.” Alexsandr laughed, slapping a knee before taking some of Rodion’s drink.  
“Even better.” She winked, and stood straight, putting her hands on her hips, “What will it be for the soldier from above?”  
“ _Real_ soldier does not hide behind robots or fusion cores.” Alexsandr took another shot of vodka, shaking out the burn.  
“What he means to say is that if he had a suit of Power Armor, he’d be the first to never leave.” Artyom shook his head, rolling his eyes.  
“Damp in Metro.  Too much walking between stations.  Would not last.”  
                The two brothers bickered before ordering a round of shots for the entire table.  
                Danse held up a hand, “I’m fine, thank you.  Can’t drink on the job.”  
                An eerie silence fell over the group, only interrupted by the bar area’s chatter.  
“Word of advice...” Sveta gave him a soft grin, “While in the Metro, you don’t decline a drink from a friend.”  
“He didn’t know.” Preston smiled shyly, “Bring him one.  I’ll make sure he drinks it.”  
“Bring him two.” Alexsandr crossed his arms, his back hitting the seat.  
                Danse tugged on the collar of his jumpsuit, “I meant no disrespect-“  
“Sh.” Rodion held up a hand, “Now, about what-“  
                Liera saw it first.  
                An arm extended from a drunken group of men, and a hand splayed firmly on the ass of the woman named Sveta.  He pulled her to his lap, laughing as she struggled to get him off and swearing in Russian.  She grabbed a bottle, smashing it on the man’s head.  
                He yelled.  The men at his table stood, Sveta on the floor.  
                And they all aimed their guns at Liera, who had her pistol drawn and visor closed.  
                Except it wasn’t just the men at the table who had their sights trained on her.  It was everyone in the bar.  
                Chairs fell behind legs that sprang.  Lamps flickered in their glass vases, rattling in place from being disturbed.  
                Sveta stood, jabbing a finger in the man’s chest and yelling.  With a harsh cut off of her words and a slap to his face, she spit at his feet before leaving them be, going to the back room of the area.  
                The rest of the men watched her leave, laughing at the man in a wave of muted rumbles.  
                Liera’s lip curled.  Her Wingman trembled; but it wasn’t from fear or hesitation.  
                The way they treated Sveta wasn’t right, and she feared for her safety should she ever be caught alone.  She noticed she was the _only_ other female in the area other than the barmaid, and felt the weight of the cultural implications.  
“Another word of advice in the Metro,” Artyom’s voice was low and hoarse, “ _Don’t_ pull your gun out at a bar.”  
“Khey, Artyom!” A man asked a question in Russian, clearly angered.  
“She’s with me.” Alexsandr leaned back, giving him a deadly glare.  
“Ah…prosti, prosti.”  
“Lastimosa.” Danse reached up, pulling gently on her elbow, “Put the gun away.”  
                Liera let out a hot breath, dumping the Wingman in its holster before dropping to her seat.  In a unified shuffle of metal, the rest of the rifles in the bar were put away and the “party,” carried on.  She took of her helmet, needing some fresh air.  
“On to…Business, then.” Rodion hiccupped before slamming a fist on his chest, “Whatever happened in Lexington helped us with the tunnels.  We opened the vents and the fumes flushed the Ferals deep into the rails.”  
“How far, would you say?” Alexsandr asked.  
“Far enough that we have a post set up at the entrance should those demons decide to return.”  
“Kha.  Some call them demons.” Alexsandr slammed his empty cup on the table before wiping his mouth, “I call them bitches.”  
                Liera coughed to cover up a laugh, almost ashamed for finding humor after such a tense encounter.  
_“Beetches.”_  
                 She looked to her right, and saw Rodion glaring at her over his cigarette.   
“What is?” He waved his hand in the air, aiming it towards her and leaving a trail of smoke.  
                She raised a brow, “What is what?”  
“Your eyes are purple.  You have metal in skull.  What is?”  
                A low groan rumbled her throat, and she sat straight, “Modifications.”  
“Kha,” Alexsandr spit on the ground, “You are not the first Cyborg to encounter Spetsnaz.”  
                She grit her teeth, “I really, _really_ , hate that word.”  
“Cyborg?”  
“Yes.”  
“Would you prefer Cyborg or little robot?”  
“Is my _real_ name off the table?”  
                He squinted at the patch with her last name, “Last…ee…mo…No, no.  Too hard to pronounce.”  
“…Seriously?”  
                Out of all the too-many-syllable Russian words he’d spouted at them, she had a hard time imagining Lastimosa being difficult for him to say.  
“So how about my first name, then?”  
“What is, again?”  
“…Liera.”  
“Little robot it is.”  
                She rolled her eyes, “Whatever.”  
                Liera tapped her fingers on the table, doing little to hide her frustration.  
“So…” Danse adjusted himself in his seat, “You’ve met another person with cybernetics, here in the Commonwealth?”  
“Yes.”  Artyom confirmed, “He goes by the name of Kellogg.  Few-hundred years old.  Gun for hire.  Haven’t seen him in a long time.”  
                Preston grew rigid, “Kellogg?”  He looked at Cait in a panic, “That’s the guy Nora was going after at Fort Hagen.”  
“KHA!” Alexsandr slapped his knee, “You do not go after Kellogg.  Kellogg leaves trail as bait.  Kellogg comes after _you_.”  
“You said he’s a few-hundred years old?  How is that possible?” Danse asked.  
                Artyom nodded at Liera, “Don’t all…modified,’ individuals have extended lifespans?”  
                Liera swallowed, fidgeting with her vest, “It’s a… _possible_ side effect for some of us, yes”  
“What about _you_?” Danse shot.  
“Guess we’ll have to wait and see.”  
“How old are you, little robot?” Alexsandr asked.  
“24.  Almost 25.”  
“You have not had robot parts for long then, no?”  
“Only for 2, going on 3, years now.”  
“What happened?”  
                The Brotherhood already knew bits and pieces of her story, and she wasn’t about to tell it in length while in a group of strangers.  But a battle-hardened vet like Alexsandr was bound to probe should she dodge the question.  
“My hardware needed some upgrades.” She joked.  
“Woman soldier needs upgrades for combat.” Rodion sucked on the end of his cigarette, judging her with beady, drunken eyes, “And you think you are ready to help _men_ fight for the tunnels?”   
                Liera cracked her knuckles, “I’ve got a robotic right arm and a spine that’s reinforced to back it up.  So yeah, I think I’ve got this covered.”  
                A small drip landed on the burning lantern in front of them, quieting it to a sizzle.  
“Ezra!” Rodion shouted, nearly falling over backwards.  
                Alexsandr caught his chair, steadying the old man.  
“Ezra!  Have your mother bring me a bucket!  And bring me my damn drinks!”  
                The drip quickened, and Liera homed in on the gap between the planks.  
“I’ve noticed you’ve got some water problems in the rails.  Probably doesn’t do much for the humidity.” Liera narrowed her eyes at the walls, “So why is it you build all your structures with wood?”  
“Wood is lighter than metal.” Alexsandr answered, “It’s easier to stockpile and requires less men.  Takes less resources to build.  You need wood cut? You saw.  Metal? Not so.”  
                She leaned her elbow on her knee, “It’s easier even if you have to make frequent replacements?”  
“Yes.” Artyom leaned back in his chair, “We could use metal if we wanted to.  But it would rust.  Instead, we save good metal salvage and scrap for armor.”  
“’Melt down the bells…’ Right.”  
                He gave her a wink and raised his glass before drinking from it.  
                A small child ran through the crowd, bouncing off a soldier who was kind enough to help him up.  He was panting by the time he handed Rodion the bucket.  
“I said get your mother, boy.”  
“She’s…”  He saw Preston, Danse, and Liera, and clammed up.  
“It’s okay.” Liera smiled, “We’re not bad guys.”  
                The boy stumbled as Rodion yanked the bucket, planting it underneath the leak.  
“She’s what?” He asked.  
“Crying.”  
                Rodion let out a soundless laugh, almost burning himself with his cigarette.  
“Women…”  He mumbled, planting his forehead on a folded arm, “To hell with ‘em.”  
                He waved his hand, and then it fell on his lap.  
“Alright, Uncle.  That’s enough.”  Alexsandr stood, looping Rodion’s arm around his neck.  
                He pulled him out of his seat, supporting him as he stumbled through the bar.  
                Artyom watched them go before turning to Liera, “Please understand when I say I am sorry.”  
                He frowned, rubbing his chin, “His wife was unfaithful.  His views on women have been skewed ever since.”  
“I’ve been burned once or twice,” Preston grunted, “Don’t see me hating every female I come across.”  
“We all handle things differently.” Artyom leaned forward, resting his elbows on the edges of the table.  
                He clasp his hands together, looking at the curtain Sveta disappeared behind, “The woman Alexsandr talked about.  The one who was used and killed by Raiders.”  
                He returned his focus to them, “That was Sveta’s sister.   That was Alexsandr’s wife…And he has dealt with it by wearing impenetrable armor, like we all do.”  
“…By wearing armor?” Danse cocked his chin.  
“Even after taking off one's vest, or all the clothes altogether, one still stays clad head to toe. We are afraid of opening up to people, showing our feelings, afraid of someone understanding our thoughts. We hide our faces, wearing gas masks, but there is one more mask, beneath that one.  Alexsandr…”  
                He sighed, “...I had only seen his real face when Rosalie died. Tired to death, almost desperate - that is how he looked...For only a second. A moment later he had his armor back, and was his regular funny self again. I didn't try to get him to open up again, nor Rodion.  It is not the Metro way.”  
                A hollow song came from somewhere nearby.  Each cord rang a solemn melody, sending a note alone until the others were strummed.  The throughway leading to the bar that was once made of free-flowing bodies condensed into a wall, a soft lantern flickering against the walls.  
                [Someone was playing a guitar. ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3eeOPm2j-t4&t=786s) They were old on Harmony, but they had a classic sound.  Tai had one; and Jack picked it up a few times.  He was never very good.  
                Artyom looked at Liera, and nodded towards the crowd.  She gave him a confused look.  He returned a smile, “I’d like you to join me, if that’s alright.”  
                She swallowed hard, and cleared her throat.  
“Sure.”  
                Preston gave her a curious grin.  Danse was set on Artyom, who took his place next to Liera with his hand extended.  
                Not wanting to offend anyone more than she already had, she accepted his gesture.  He helped her up, and guided her to the performance.  
                The audience parted without too much protest.  Most seemed to know him, although still curious about the woman he locked hands with as he pulled her along.  
                They arrived at the center of the circle, and Liera’s heart sank.  
                On the far side, some men sat; others stood.  There were women, too, more so than she’d seen anywhere else in the station.  They were adorned in the same sort of attire- leather jackets and gloves, military fatigues and boots.  Some with fur, others without.  But scattered between them…were children.  
                Children in tattered clothes, stained and torn.  One boy in particular wore a hat that was too big.  He stood in front of a small bike while another played with toys in the middle.  
                There was a crate between them.  One that held a glowing lantern and supported a boot planted on the side.  It belonged to a Spetsnaz soldier; one with his fatigues rolled to the mouth of his boot laces; with a canteen strapped to his waist; a survival pack still weighing on his shoulders; a gun still strapped across his padded jacket; and a metal helmet with more than a few soldering marks that covered battle wounds…  
                He played his instrument.  His guitar.  His gloves had no fingers, and the blood and dirt around his fingernails told the story of many hardships.  Small bandages were laced around his knuckles…  
                But he kept playing.  And the others listened.  
“We didn’t get it perfect.” Artyom whispered, “Some of my brothers are stuck in their old ways.  Where women are weak.  Where men are expendable, so long as the fight is won.  Where questions are seen as insubordination, or the inability to understand the world around us.  We do not fight for the old ways.”  
                Beyond the farther wall of people were the gun racks they’d passed.  A customer had an automatic rifle balanced on his shoulder as he watched.  A guard to the right of them paused, lifting his visor to smoke a cigarette as he did the same.  
“We fight for a chance to start anew.”  
                Liera swallowed a lump in her throat.  It didn’t help when Alexsandr, Sveta, and Ezra stepped across from them.  Sveta told her son to play with the others, but he wouldn’t listen.  
                He took her hand, and the three of them just…stood there.  
                It was as if the song had all of them under spell, watching on like moths drawn to a flame.  
_“A flame…”  
_                 She studied the lamp, flickering and brightening in the drafts.  
_“Luchinushka.”  
_                 The people of the Metro were rough around the edges, to say the least.  But they had a way of life to build upon.  A culture.  
“You said the Metro teaches your people to live without hope.”  Liera smiled, turning to him, “I’m no expert, but…I see plenty of hope, now.”  
                The slight pinch between his brows that always seemed to be there loosened.  Without his mask and helmet, she saw how young he was.  20, at best.  And yet, he was wise beyond his years.  
“Spaceebah.”  
                She smirked, “You know I don’t know what that means.”  
“I know.  It means, ‘thank you.’  I wanted to teach you.”  He leaned against a wooden post, crossing his ankles, “You are not mere foot soldier.  You are not like other Brotherhood members.”  
                He dug in his pocket, pulling out a poorly rolled cigarette and his bullet-shaped lighter.  He flipped the shell-shaped top, and sparked the flame at the tip.  
“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or an insult, anymore.” She joked.  
                She leaned her back against a wall and took out her own.  
“Nifty little trinket you’ve got there.” She nodded, taking her first hit.  
“It was my father’s.” He studied it in his palm, “He gave it to me before my first expedition.  Alexsandr was always jealous.”  
“Does your father live in a different station?”  
                Artyom grinned, wiping his mouth with his thumb, “General Glazkov was our father when we had none.  He lives in the heart of the Metro, a station to the south.  It’s location and name are highly protected…you understand.  Surely you have secrets of your own.”  
                He didn’t so much look at _her_ as he did her armor with its “out-worldly” branding and technology.  
“I do.”  
“Perhaps you can use some of those secrets to put in a good word for the Spetsnaz with your Elder.”  
                Liera grinned, looking at her cigarette burning between her fingertips.  
“You’re good, Mr. Senaviev.”  She took another hit before rubbing it out with her boot like she’d seen others do, “If it’s Brotherhood support you were after, all you had to do was ask.”                          
“You do not strike me as a woman who can be manipulated by mere appeals to your humanity. If support was all I was after, I would have done much less than share this moment with you.” He frowned, almost saddened, now, by the soldier strumming his guitar, “We don't need any more petty politics, or squabbling over resources, or arguing over who has seniority.  We need someone who can bring the whole Commonwealth together in a common cause.”  
                He shifted, pushing himself off his post and stopping just short of her.  His gaze was intense; drilling small holes wherever it was pointed.  
“I think you’ve got it in you to be that leader.”  
                Liera’s face burned hot, and she looked down with a nervous smile.  
“You barely know me.”  
                He put his forearm on the column above her head, leaning in and blocking the sight of the bar, with the span of his shoulders.  The Russian edge on his words tickled her heart as he whispered.  
“…But I know someone who does.”  
                A pocket on her vest shifted somewhere near her stomach.  He slipped something inside, shutting the flap and giving it a slight pat to secure the Velcro.  
“We Remember, Pilyot.”  
                Her breathing hitched.  Her heart froze.  With shock and awe, she turned her head; her nose brushing his.  
“What did you just say?”  
                The edges around his jaw softened.  His lips curled into a smirk that lifted one side of his mouth.  
“Hhmm…”  
                His eyes switched between hers, glistening from the lantern that still burned behind them.  
“Paladin Danse is a lucky man.”  
                He took a step back, lifting his ski mask to just under his eyes.  
“See you on the battlefield.”

 

…

 

                She was standing there, her jaw all but unhinged.  Whatever he said to her before he waved her off and trotted away was something she wasn’t expecting.  Something she didn’t like…  
                And how close he was to her only a moment ago was something _he_ didn’t like.  
“Looks like someone’s moving in on your lady.” Preston teased, lifting the rim of his hat up with is knuckle.  
                Danse looked back to him, “Are you done?”  
“All I’m saying, man, is that these Russian men seem to have a certain effect on the ladies up top.  Just ask Cait.”  
“I’ll pass.”  
“You’ve been warned.” Preston laughed, “I should probably check in and make sure she’s not causing a commotion.  Why don’t you go check on Liera?”  
                Pops interrupted them.  Distant and angry, like echoes of a war from the past.  The guitar screeched as the soldier stopped playing, his neck snapping forward.  The crowd seemed to panic, the children being roped in close to their parents.  A Russian soldier ran, almost smacking into Alexsandr at the other side of the room.  
                He was yelling frantically.  Alexsandr gripped him by his collar and pulled his face closer, shouting back.  The man calmed himself, and while Danse couldn’t hear what he said, saw his lips move quickly.  
                Alexsandr growled, shook his head, and marched to Liera’s side.  He said something in a hurry before running back to the stand where he’d dropped his armor off for cleaning.  
                Preston stood up, lifting his laser musket that leaned against the table, “Looks like commotion found _us._ ”  
                Liera returned to them just as Danse jumped out of his seat.  She picked up one of the last two shots of vodka on the table.  
“Hold it.” Artyom barked, returning fully geared and ready to go.  
                Danse crossed his arms.  
_“It’s like he_ knew _this was about to happen.”  
_                 Artyom took the other shot glass, holding it up to Liera.  
“Za zdarovje!  To health!”  
                The two clanked the glasses together, and Liera took it with a practiced swoop as if she’d done it more than a few times in her life.  
“Whoo-“ She hissed, “Bugger’s got a kick to it.”  
“The more it burns, the better it is.” Artyom chuckled.  
                Her eyes teared up before she put her helmet on and shut her visor, still coughing.  
“Soldier.” Danse put his hands on his hips.  
“What?” She held her arms out innocently before mustering up an exaggerated accent, “It is the Russian way.”  
“You’re a quick learner, Lastimosa.” Artyom lowered his faceplate, shoving new shells in his shotgun.  
“Awe, did you hear that?” She joked, looking back to Danse and Preston, “He said my name!”  
“It was my brother who said it was hard to pronounce, not I.”  
                Artyom patted her shoulder and nodded, and the two fell in line with the stream of soldiers running towards the opposite end of the station.  
                Preston snickered, “Told you.”  
“Shut up, Garvey…”

 

…

 

                Liera ran behind Artyom, side-stepping and twisting to avoid getting plowed in to.  
“What’s happening?” She called ahead.  
“The nest is moving on our perimeter!” Artyom bumped into someone, gripping his shoulder as he continued, “We must get to the-“  
                A man up ahead wore a long coat with a fur hat that resembled the one many of the others had.  He was shouting orders and passing out guns before he saw the two of them.  
“Artyom, where is your brother?!”  
“I am here, comrade.”  
                Liera turned to find Alexsandr and the rest of her squad gathered near a row of rail-mounted platforms.  Two of them had a bench mounted above the wheels, and a crank that looked older than the tunnel itself.  They appeared to be hand-operated carts, modified to traverse the rails…and Russian soldiers were already piling in.  
“Lastimosa.  You, Preston, Alexsandr and I will take lead cart.”  Artyom ordered, “Cait, Rhys, Haylen, you are in middle with my men.  Danse, you must be on cargo tow in back.  Only cart with high enough weight limit for your suit.”  
“Hold on.” Danse’s helmet cocked to the side, “What makes you think you’re qualified to issue orders for _my_ squadron?”  
“Because I have fought entire wars in these tunnels while you have only heard whispers of a skirmish.” Artyom growled, steeling himself, “There is…something you should know.”  
                Alexsandr walked by him, stopping to whisper something.  Artyom nodded, and his brother kept walking.  
                Artyom raised a hand, rotating his wrist as if trying to pry the words from his lips, “The Ferals…they are not the only demons who thrive in the tunnels.”  
“You mentioned that.” Haylen leaned on one leg, “You said there were Super Mutants who slipped in sometimes, too.”  
“No, no…These creatures are unlike anything on the Surface, and I fear they now travel with the Ghouls.”  Artyom cleared his throat, “Nosalises.  We believe they are mutated moles of sorts.  They have claws for hands.  Their sight is poor.  Sensitive to light.  And if the reports that came before communications were lost are true, there’s a lot of Nosalises we must blind.”  
“Why are you only telling us this now?” Liera shot.  
“If I had told you earlier, you may have not helped.  If I did not tell you at all…” He turned back towards the cart, “Shock and awe on the battlefield can be deadlier than bullet.”  
                Liera smirked, “That so?”  
“Yes.”  He extended a hand to help her in the cart.  
“Well,” She accepted it, placing her foot on the edge before stepping on, “Try not to watch me, then.”  
                He grunted, “No promises.”  
                Danse stepped on the platform.  The edge dipped and shifted.  
“Are you sure this will be able to hold me?”  
“As long as you do not move around much, you should be fine.” Alexsandr grinned before closing his visor, “Just do not break.”  
“Right…”

 

…

 

                The middle cart was full, and the lead had three seats left.  Artyom sat down after stepping over some of his soldiers.  
“Izvineeti, pazhalusta.” He muttered.  
                Liera pursed her lips.  
“EV, any progress on that lexicon?” She whispered.  
“It is not fully constructed, but I believe what Artyom Senaviev said was something along the lines of ‘excuse me.’  Lexicon remains at 89%.  I will notify you upon completion.  There is no need to keep asking.”  
“Wow…Moody today, aren’t you?”  
“Apologies.  I have fallen into the automatic response upon repetitive lines of questioning.  The Brotherhood soldiers have been…relentless.”  
“About what?”  
“It seems Nora Black has boarded the _Prydwen_ upon her return from Fort Hagen.  This has caused a stir within the Brotherhood and has peaked their interest in counter-IMC technologies and methods.” EV paused, “I forwarded blueprints of anti-Titan technology to Quartermaster Teagan to satiate them for now.  We will discuss further training or sharing of information once we are reunited.”  
“You gave them anti-Titan weapon schematics…?” Liera did her best to keep her voice down, “They could use those _against_ us, EV…”  
“These projects are realms outside of the Brotherhood’s current manufacturing capabilities.  They are time-extensive and will require the development of new methods for weapons research and development.  A large-scale production like that will be easy to monitor.  Do not worry, Pilot.  I have done the math.”  
“Ruthless calculus, more like it…”  
“Hey!” Artyom shouted, “What are you waiting for?”  
                The men in the cart cranked their necks and began bombarding him with questions.  Alexsandr yelled back while Preston adjusted his sniper rifle.  Liera climbed in, sitting next to Artyom.  Having her back to the tunnel was nerve-racking, but it had its trade off…  
                She was less likely to get shot by the men sitting on the opposite bench.  
“Your arm.  You said it was cybernetic, no?”  Artyom nodded.  
“Yeah.”  
“Your plan will fail.” One of them spat over the side of the cart, “A woman does not belong here.  And she does not belong on handle.”  
                Liera’s lip curled, and she pushed her sleeves up just under her elbow pads.  Her gauntlets shifted in place, the right one not able to hide her prosthetic from the flickering lanterns of the cart.  
“Watch me.”  
                The wheels on the handcart screeched against the rails.  Sparks highlighted small pools of water before fizzling out under their leaks.  She pushed and lifted the handle with minimal effort, basking in the defeat that came in silence from the others.  
                The only sound after disproving their misogynistic remarks was the cart zipping along the lines.  Being so far from EV made her mind feel hollow and the rest of her, vulnerable.  
_“Whatever we run into, I know I’m not going to like that, either.”_

 

…

                 
                A cloud of thick must met them as they approached the forward base.  Artyom had ordered them to stop.  The “line,” as the Russians kept referring it as was scarcely reinforced at best.  Huge pipes lined the ceiling between the Metro rails that framed a narrow island in the middle.  Each rail was lined with wooden scaffolding, providing unsteady and unmanned guard towers.  Closest to them was a barricade built by sandbags with a mounted turret guarding it from behind.  
                Each of the Spetsnaz unloaded from the handcarts.  The grimness on their faces had never left, justified by the stained bandages that wrapped different limbs of their bodies.  
                It wasn’t soldiers that they lacked.  
                It was _fresh_ soldiers.  
                Men that still believed they had a chance to defend their home rather than getting wounded, slaughtered, eaten – maybe a combination of the three.  
                Liera sighed, focusing on two beams of light that raced towards them from down one of the rails.  
_“Uh-“  
_                 An engine sputtered, and the wheels underneath shot sparks along the dusty walls as it slid to a stop.  
                It was a heavy gun with a shielded, man-sized platform behind it’s handles, mounted to a smaller rail and adorned with floodlights that blinded her as it approached.  A man climbed out of the driver’s seat blow, his faceguard raised above a thick goatee and hard-set eyes.  
                Artyom seemed to know him.  
“Pavel!” He shook his hand, “It is good to see you recovered the tachanka.”  
“Pft-“ Pavel started speaking rather quickly in Russian before Artyom cut him off.  
“English, please, for we have foreign allies.”  He held his arm out towards Liera and the others.  
                Pavel’s neck snaked back, “You brought surface-dwellers into the Metro?”  
“Desperate times, my friend.”  
“One would question whether times are _that_ desperate, Artyom…How do we know they will not return in force?”  
                Liera sniffed, rolling her ankle, “With the rest of the Commonwealth at war with the Institute, you won’t have that to worry about.”  
“When you decide to kick the door down of a foe you cannot best, remember that the Metro is separate from the Commonwealth above.” Pavel raised his ski mask and lowered his visor, “I would like for my people to not be exterminated, if at all possible.”  
“We must get rid of bitches before we worry about external affairs.” Alexsandr held his flamethrower out with one hand, hovering it in front of Artyom.  
                He took it, and the bottom hit the floor before he lifted it with all his strength.  
“Oh, little brother.  You will be strong, one day.” Alexsandr laughed, slapping his back and making him stumble, “The fire is in your hands now, Artyom.  Carry it through.”  
“Bogh, this thing is heavy…”  
“You’re attacking from that…tank, gun- thing?” Liera nodded at the tachanka.  
                Alexsandr planted his knuckles in his hips, “I am.”  
“If the Nosalises are sensitive and scared of light…Why is the line lit up like a beacon?” Liera shifted her weight to one leg, “I thought the objective was to kill them, not push them deeper into the Metro.”  
                Alexsandr cackled, climbing into the mobile tank and grabbing the tachanka’s handles before rotating its barrel forward.  
“Noise travels quickly in the tunnels…and Nosalises are curious bastards.”  He twisted to point his helmet at the others, “Pavel!  Cut the lights!”  
                Their makeshift forward base went black.  Liera’s visor shed a blue light on the sandbags in front of her, panicking in the darkness.  
“What in the hell-“  
                Danse was interrupted by a crackling radio, its speaker hacking to life as whoever fiddled with it cranked the volume.  The screech was deafening, stabbing her eardrums with sharp pokes.  
                Liera jumped as a full orchestra filled the tunnels; horns blaring, violins strumming…and a choir singing at the top of their lungs.

 **[“Rossia - sviashennaia nasha derzhava,  
](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AOAtz8xWM0w) ** **Rossia - lubimaia nasha strana!”  
**

                The beasts responded with their own singing.  An anthem of vicious snarls and howls, one hungrier than the last.  The ground rumbled as the feet of an army marched to the Russian drumroll bursting from the radio.  
“ZA RODINU!” Alexsandr shouted as the floodlights on his turret exposed the undead forces enclosing on their position.  
                They were hunched over, running on fours in an awkward shuffle that made it look more like they were using their knuckles to propel them forward.  They stood at the same height as their Ghoul comrades, and were just as distorted.  
  
**“Moguchaia volia, velikaia slava -  
****Tvoio dostoianie na vse vremena!”**  

                The crackling crescendo was only hardly muted by the heavy shots leaving Alexsandr’s tachanka.  Bursts of gunfire lit the space around him, and other floodlights from behind Liera’s position revealed more targets than the ones being mowed down.  
                It was surreal.  
                Each body; each limb- flying through the air in what seemed like slow motion to this song that was just so…  
                _Regal._  
                Liera bit back a laugh, planting the stock of her Hemlok on top of the bags of sand.  Danse stood next to her, firing his laser rifle at the mob being torn apart by Alexsandr’s form of Russian patriotism.  
  
**“Slavsia, Otechestvo nashe svobodnoe,  
** **Bratskikh narodov soiuz vekovoi,  
** **Predkami dannaia mudrost' narodnaia!  
** **Slavsia, strana! My gordimsia toboi!”**  

                Shouts and laughs of men around her made the battle even more ridiculous than initially planned, but what sent her over the edge was Artyom aiming his borrowed flamethrower at the left tunnel.

                More enemy forces tried to flank them from the side unprotected by Alexsandr’s onslaught.  The Russian singing met a height that could only be achieved by the group of voices that lifted the spirits of the soldiers fighting…  
“URA!” And as if on cue, Artyom’s fire shot and spread in precise swings – going from left to right.

 **“Ot yuzhykh morei do poliarnogo kraia,  
** **Raskinulis nashi lesa i polia.  
** **Odna ty na svete! Odna ty takaia -  
** **Khranimaia Bogom rodnaia zemlia!”**

                Preston, Cait, Rhys, and Haylen formed a firing squad.  They thinned the herd by landing shots on the stumbling, burning bodies.  A Nosalis charged through the flames.  
                Pavel began singing along with the song, aiming his mounted turret at the mutated bundle of fire rocketing towards their position.  
                Liera stopped to reload, almost dropping her gun to cover her ears as empty shells began peppering her helmet…and still, Pavel’s awful singing dampened her spirits more than anything.  
                The other soldiers joined him in song. Even Alexsandr’s baritone voice rang clear through the chaos.

 **“Shirokii prostor dlia mechty i dlia zhizni,  
** **Griadushie nam otkryvaiut goda.  
** **Nam silu daiot nasha vernost otchizne.  
** **Tak bylo, tak est' i tak budet vsegda!”**

                She didn’t know what the hell the song was, or what the people singing it were saying.  She didn’t know why the Russians joined in the festivities rather than calling out tactical information.  What was clear is that, if not for the surface dweller reinforcements, this would’ve been a harder battle fought.  
                Even with their boisterous plundering, there was something energizing about the Russians.  A people who didn’t complain about their living situation but embraced the mistakes of the past and moved on, hoping just to fight another day.  To kill their enemies with a smile on their faces and the burn of liquor on their lips.   
                The Russians reminded her of a concept Grenier had tried to beat in her skull from time to time…War doesn’t have to be _all_ doom and gloom.  
                It can be fun, too.  
                And the Spetsnaz _definitely_ knew how to make war fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Behind the Scenes:**  
>  Check out [Chapter 48](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10296845/chapters/32791833) of _"The Archive,"_ for more screenshots and commentary!
> 
>  **Author's Notes:**  
>  Za Rodinu! - "For the Motherland!"  
> Ura! - Russian war cry, similar to "Oorah!"


	31. Slash and Burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Catch on fire if you must. Sometimes, everything needs to burn to the ground so that we may grow.”_  
>  -A.J. Lawless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brace for the feels! 
> 
>   **:D**

* * *

* * *

                 ope is the salve to life’s burn.  
                It comes in the form of people and the bonds between them.  By achieving a goal that seemed impossible.  The moment when a battle-worn ship’s slip stream empties into familiar constellations that lead the way home.  
                For the citizens of the CIT Station, hope came as a small army that was looked upon like a parade.  Even when Artyom and Alexsandr parted ways with the other Spetsnaz, they seemed hopeful.  
                For Liera, hope came in a breath of fresh, surface air.  
                They’d exited the Metro on the edge of Cambridge, next to the CIT ruins that still beckoned her to investigate. The sky came in blues, purples, pinks – like particle effects splintering from an arc wave behind a darkening skyline.  
                Haylen and Rhys talked amongst themselves as they observed the hazy river that cut them off from Boston.  The view was nicer when not blanketed by a lethal fog that gave safe passage to hundreds of Ferals.  
                She shuddered, cracking her neck and resting the back of her head against EV’s leg.  She sat underneath, feet dangling off her foot’s plating.  
“I’m ready for this tour to be over…”  
                It was exhausting.  Getting to Sanctuary had been an adventure itself.  Blazing a warpath through Lexington and the Metro had been another entirely.  
_“We’re not even at the main event.”_  
                Some stupid castle, out in the middle of nowhere.  With a stupid sea monster, whatever that’s supposed to symbolize.  
“You do seem quite strained. Pilot Royal would remind you to ‘breathe.’”  
                She smiled, “He would.”  
                He did.  He had multiple times since she arrived in the Commonwealth.  
                He even said he liked “the new guy.”  Having feelings for someone else felt wrong, like she didn’t deserve a second chance at love because she threw her first away so recklessly.  Hearing him say that, though, even if he was an apparition _of_ that guilt…Some kind of sick coping mechanism that her subconscious conjured to make her feel justified-  
“I can practically _hear_ you thinking.”  
                Danse approached from the left, wearing that awful grin with the weight of the world on his shoulders, and a walk like it didn’t faze him one bit.  
“We can talk about it…if you want.”  
                Even through the hottest fires, he was willing to be her rock.  The force that grounded her when she wanted to float away the most.  
“I…You know I’m not good at this.”  
                She didn’t know what to say.  She was so damn good at droning on and on in her mind, but when it came to verbalizing anything she felt, it was like a demon inside her throat pulled it closed.  
“Well, I’m certainly no expert.  Guess we’re screwed.”  
                She let out a quiet laugh, “As embarrassing as it is to admit, this is about the time I’d call my dad and ask him what the hell I’m supposed to do.”  
                The sturdiness to her words shook to the foundation.  
“I can’t do that right now, but…I think you’ve come to the conclusion by now that he was the kind of man that had advice about, uh…everything.”  
“Usually good advice, from what you’ve told me.”  
“Usually.”  
                She was quiet for a moment, but it was a comfortable silence.  The longingness for her family hung in the air, but it was more about sharing it with him more than grieving. It didn’t feel like he was waiting for her to continue, but just _listening,_ as if they could sit there in each other’s company for hours without saying a word.  
                Finding someone like that was rare, especially when the IMC threatened to take everything you knew away in a matter of seconds; every day, every hour.  Or, in this case…the Commonwealth.  
“Do you…” She rubbed the back of her neck, “Do you ever get scared to get close to people?”  
                He hesitated, stabilizing from a brief moment of unfiltered panic, “Absolutely.”  
                Danse took to a solemn tone, closing the distance between them.  He leaned the side of his shoulder against EV, hovering next to Liera.  
                She looked up at him, and then back to the sunset, “It’s never an easy decision, is it?”  
“What decision?”  
“When you decide to forge a bond with someone who could die right next to you.  Blown up, shot, stepped on by a 20-foot-mech, electrocuted by an arc trap…” Liera chuckled, “Torn apart by a pack of Ferals, eaten by a deathclaw, blown off a building by a crashing Vertibird-“  
“The _crash_ didn’t get me.  It was the _Mutant_ I was wrestling with.”  
“Heh, yeah…That’s right…” She swallowed, wetting her mouth, “I went to my dad with similar concerns back when I joined the Marauders.  I was scared to throw myself in the front lines with my friends at my side; under my father’s command; in charge of keeping my brother and his battalion alive…It added a multitude of reasons to fight harder.  And then I went and made things even more complicated by adding a relationship to the mix.”  
                She choked down tears, “When you’re thrown into battle alongside someone – forced to survive with each other through countless conflicts.  Saving each other from death more than once…You learn more about each other faster than an average acquaintance.  You almost _have_ to.”  
“This…seems like it’s been on your mind for a while.”  
                Liera nodded, feeling his stare behind her.  
“Maxson gave me a title, but you and I both know I’m a Militia Pilot.  Not a Knight of the Brotherhood.” Her brows creased, and she turned to him, “It’s an attempt to keep me on a leash.  I don’t blame him.  That doesn’t change that, one day, I’ll have to pack my bags, head home, and dive head-first into whatever shitstorm the IMC is stirring up in the Frontier…and sometimes…well, _all_ the time…I think about how much it’s going to _suck_ to say goodbye…”  
                Danse took a sharp inhale, and his eyes seemed to sadden.  He let his breath out slow and calm, reeling in whatever was bothering him before covering up the remnants with a smile.  
“We’ll all just have to enjoy our time together while we can.  One battle won in a blaze of glory after another…One day at a time.”  
                Liera laughed, “So eloquent, Paladin Danse.”  
“I have my moments.” His voice regained the gentle softness that came with talks like this, “Can I ask you something?”  
“…Duh.”  
                He smirked, “What did he say?  Your father.”  
                She blinked, a smile creeping up on her in fond remembrance.  
“He said, ‘Life just takes, and takes, and takes…So when a moment of happiness presents itself, no matter how brief it may seem…Show ‘life’ who’s the better thief.’”  
                She learned she wasn’t the best at stealing from her time with Ryan.  Life replaced the happiness with guilt she couldn’t let go of, but was ready to move on from.  
“…Then it seems like there’s a simple solution to your problem.” He whispered.  
“And what would that be?”  
“Don’t get caught.”  He looked to the side, then back to her, “Because if anything happened to you...I honestly don't know what I'd do.  And _that_ scares the hell out of _me_.”  
                His dark, deep set eyes met hers.  She traced the scars on his face, the one on the left in particular – the mark of war that ran from his temple down to the middle of his cheek…  
“You say that kind of stuff to a woman and she might get the wrong idea.”  
                Her heart beat so hard, a vein started to pop in her throat.  
“You don’t strike me as the kind of woman to get ‘wrong ideas.’”  
                The constant tension between them was tiring.  The obvious attraction that was always danced around like a cult and a bonfire.  She knew that Brotherhood morals and ethics discouraged him to throw gasoline into the flames…  
“…I’m not.”  
                But playing with fire, _his_ fire, was something she’d grown to like in the brief time she’d known him.  The only problem was, when one plays with fire…  
                Someone’s bound to get burned.

 

…

 

                Danse led the pack across the bridge leading to Diamond City.  It was broken; split in half, supported by the wreckage of a ship lodged underneath.  The plating on either end was clean in the break and reinforced as if it was originally built to come apart.  The ship rocked and rolled on the waves, wanting to be free, but kept prisoner by the steel vice clamped around it’s observation deck.  
                He might have stopped to appreciate it if he didn’t have so much on his mind.  
                Finding Scara.  Taking the Castle.  Facing Maxson.  
                A forbidden attraction that would become a festering wound whether or not it was attended to; because Liera was right.  
                She’d be gone one day, maybe _forever._  
                Walking away from their conversation, feeling what he felt…It was difficult to say the least.  
                It was more than what he had with the one woman he’d “experimented” with back in Rivet City as a young adult.  The one who clearly used him for the sole purpose of physical comfort and left every night before going off to do…whatever she did.  
                Liera was everything he wanted in a woman.  A visualization of a fantasy he thought was impossible, and others would find ridiculous.  And she was right about another thing, too.  
                She wasn’t _really_ a Brotherhood soldier.  She wasn’t _really_ under his command, either, even if they’d both silently agreed to play their parts.  
                His entire life had been dedicated to the Brotherhood.  Every decision he made, opportunity lost, ties severed – it was for his career.  It wasn’t so much that he was willing to risk that to explore what he and Liera were developing, because _that_ would be careless.  Stupid.  In some way shape or form, it felt good to admit that.  
                He sighed, and wondered if she was having as much trouble focusing as he was.  
                She marched next to him, her Hemlok level and steady as she maneuvered over the debris with ease.  The wrap on her arm held the sleeve of her jumpsuit together, fastened by a strap recycled from an old bag.  
                He remembered the lights that lit up after he’d helped her repair her previous injury.  Small reflections glistening on her cybernetic arm, creating small glints between the plates like gems…and casting shadows on a portion that didn’t quite blend with the rest.  
                The wound from where she’d saved him.  Jumped off the side of Fort Strong, almost drowning, pulling him from the jaws of death and even after- fighting to keep him alive.  
                He remembered back to when she slept in his lap, hooked up to a Rad-X bag in a desperate attempt to save her.  The sheer anger of having to leave her behind to get the rest of his squad to safety.  
_“’Saving each other from death more than once…You learn more about each other faster than an average acquaintance.’”_  
                It was the self-validating proof he needed to prove he was capable of making tough decisions, even having her in his squad…Something she had more experience with than he did.  
_“Ryan…”  
_                 She called for him in her sleep, back at the police station.  
                Losing someone like that damages a person.  In her case, it was just as much physically as it was emotionally.  He felt intrusive, moving in on a woman haunted by the ghost of a past lover.  
“We’re getting close.” Haylen advised.  
                Danse stopped himself from getting tangled up in his thoughts, and refocused on the mission.  
                Up ahead, there was a light.  It marked a barricade made of sheet metal and wood, with an arrow pointing straight.  Behind it, a smaller sign read, “Diamond City,” with another direction posted.  
“This is our stop.” Artyom yawned, standing next to him, “End of the line, so to speak…”  
“You’re leaving?”  
“There is station nearby.” Alexsandr rolled his shoulders, “Preston has his business.  You have yours.  _We_ must inform station of Red Line’s fate.”  
“Preston has business, eh?” Liera turned a cheek, “General?”  
“There’s a settlement a short distance west from here.” He adjusted his rifle’s strap on his shoulder, “Hangman’s Alley.  Cait and I are going to check in and rally the troops.”  
                Cait grinned, “Everyone relax.  We’ll all meet outside the city gate in the morn’.  Till then - goodnight, ‘nd don’t do anything I wouldn’t.  Which ain’t a lot.  Maybe don’t listen to-“  
“Alright!  Until tomorrow.” Artyom waved them off, turning on his heel, “Dobroy nochi, comrades.”  
                Cait pursed her lips as the two Spetsnaz departed, disappearing in an alleyway.  
“Arse hats…”  
“We should get going, too.” Preston chuckled, “You bunch have a safe night.”  
“Same to you…” Liera sounded less than pleased.  
                Before long, the recon squad was alone.  It seemed suspicious that the two factions who were already working together had informed each other of their plans to depart in secrecy.   
“That was…abrupt.”  
                From the tone of Liera’s voice, she was put off by it too.  
“I’ll say.” Rhys agreed.  
“As long as they rendezvous at the agreed location and prepare their forces accordingly, what they’re doing is none of our concern.” Danse proceeded to the city, stomping ahead.  
“Food and sleep…” Rhys mumbled, “Food and sleep is my concern.”  
“We have to find Professor Scara and contact Elder Maxson before we can set up camp.”  
                His stomach growled, almost as unhappy to give the order as Rhys was to hear it.  
“Yes, sir…”  
“Set up camp?” Haylen asked, “In a city?  You know they have hotels, right?”  
“I’d prefer a bed to a bivouac…” Liera groaned.  
                He contemplated the idea, and decided he wasn’t in the mood for a debate.  
“…We’ll see what the city has to offer.”

 

…

 

                Boston had its own signature amongst the farewell letter written by the other cities of the Commonwealth.  Abandoned vehicles, a common fixture that she’d seen far too often…They were concentrated in these streets.  Both lanes were clogged with panicked ghosts that had been forced from their steel vessels.  It didn’t matter which lane they were in – all of them were pointed in one direction:  
                Out.  
                But they never _got_ out…At least, not in the way they’d hoped.  
                Liera grit her teeth, sticking to the sidewalk with the rest of the squad.  She kept her head down, looking behind her as EV all but tip-toed around the bundles of broken frames and busted windshields.  
                The roads emptied into an intersection.  A plaza, chipped and defiled with bits of concrete scattered along the tiles, marked the entrance of a fortress.  A compound made of rust and metal with green streaks along the panels like a monster had licked it and left strings of emerald saliva to dry.  
                A statue of a man stood out front, wielding a baseball bat in a peculiar uniform.  
_“Never was a fan of the sport.   I guess this is where it originated.”_  
                Behind him was something more out of place.  A woman in a red trench coat and a flat, rounded hat, barking at an intercom post.  
“What do you _mean_ you can’t open the gate?  Stop playing around, Danny!  I’m standing out in the open here, for crying out loud!”  
                Her accent matched those at Bunker Hill.  The one that cut “R’s” and added others where they didn’t belong.  
**“I got orders not to let you in, Ms. Piper…I’m sorry.  I’m just doing my job.”**  
“’Just doing your job?’” She mocked the man on the radio, “Protecting Diamond City means keeping me out, is that it?  ‘Oh look, it’s the scary reporter!’ Boo!”  
                Liera choked back a laugh, muffling a cough.  
                Piper whipped around, part frightened – part unimpressed.  
**“I’m sorry, but Mayor McDonough’s really steamed, Piper.  Sayin’ that article you wrote was all lies.  The whole city’s in a tizzy.”**  
                She balled her fists and exploded them towards the microphone, “AGH!  You open this gate _right now_ , Danny Sullivan!  I _live_ here!  You can’t just lock me out!”  
                She let out a defeated sigh, a curse on her breath, “Open _up_ …”  
                But then she snapped her fingers, and her eyes popped open.  
“You,” Piper whispered, beckoning at the group, “You guys want into Diamond City, right?”  
                Liera looked up to Danse, who’s helmet tilted towards her.  
                He switched back to Piper, “We just got here, but…Yes.”  
“Okay, okay, good.  Now shh, play along.” Piper gave them a wicked grin, clearing her throat and rocking casually on her heels, “What was that?  You said you’re traders up from Quincy?”  
                She put an elbow on the radio box, leaning against it and crossing her ankles, “You have enough supplies to keep the general store stocked for a whole month?  Huh.”  
                Piper leaned over, putting her mouth closer to the microphone while she waved her hand around as if the man was standing there, “You hear that, Danny?  You gonna open the gate and let us in?  Or are you going to be the one talking to crazy Myrna about losing out on all this supply?”  
**“Geez, all right.  No need to make it personal, Piper.  Give me a minute.”  
                ** Piper grinned, nodding at the group, “Better head inside quick before ole’ Danny catches on to the bluff.”  
                The massive, yellow bracket that secured the green panel lurched.  Dust trickled down as the gears began to grind, and the arms pulled the door slowly towards the sky.  
                Piper swiped at her hat, “Another great day in Diamond City…”  
                The inside area was well lit, better than most other places in the Commonwealth.  Booths similar to those in the Metro lined the entrance to descending stairs.  
                A man in a pressed suit shifted in the rising view, handing something off to what Liera assumed was an armed guard.  
“Ah, shit…” Piper groaned.  
“Piper!  Who let you back inside? I told Sullivan to keep that gate shut!” He raised his fist and stormed towards her, the guards minding their own business, “You _devious_ , rabble-rousing slanderer!  The…The _level_ , of dishonesty in that paper of yours!  I’ll have that printer scrapped for parts!”  
                He gave Liera a bad vibe.  The way he yelled.  The slight shudder in his voice, as if he didn’t believe his own accusations…  
“Pilot,” EV wrote, “I am picking up readings of biological composition similar to Paladin Danse.  Recommended course of action: Ask subject politely if they are human.”  
                Liera scowled under her breath, “You can’t just _ask_ someone that, EV…Now hunker down and stay out of sight till we’re inside…”  
                She rolled her eyes behind her visor.  
“Ooh, that a _statement_ , Mr. McDonough?  ‘Tyrant mayor shuts down the press?’  Why don’t we ask the newcomers?” She waved her hand at the squad, “You support the news?  ‘Cause the mayor’s threatening to throw free speech in the _dumpster_.” She lowered her voice, cocking her chin, “Wait…Are those Brotherhood markings?”  
                McDonough and Piper seemed hesitant after that.  
                Danse sighed, the speaker in his helmet unable to hide his blatant disinterest, “The Brotherhood of Steel finds the press to be...a necessary evil.  In times of war, propaganda is just as important as bullets.”  
                Piper huffed, “The Brotherhood and the Institute at war...if we could guarantee no one else got hurt, I'd say it was a great idea.”  
“What's the matter?  Don't like kicking in the door?”  
“Killing's killing. There's _always_ a cost to taking a life...”  
                McDonough stepped between them, smiling nervously at Danse and the rest of the team, “Oh, I didn’t mean to bring you into this argument, good people.  No, no, no…You look like Diamond City material.”  
                He extended an arm towards the entrance of the city, “Welcome to the great green jewel of the Commonwealth.  Safe.  Happy.  A fine place to come, spend your money, settle down.”  
                He threw a glare over his shoulder, “Don’t let this _muckraker_ tell you otherwise, all right?”  
                Liera crossed her arms.   
“What were you two arguing about?”  
                Rhys groaned behind her, “You just couldn’t let it go, could you…”  
                She ignored him.  
“What’d you think?” Piper shot, “Print lies and everybody’s happy…”  
“You write some kind of newspaper or something?”  
“Publick Occurrences, and we’re the hard look at the _truth_.” She all but snarled the word at McDonough.  
                Liera shifted her weight, leaning on her right leg, “And what disputed truth would that be, Mayor?”  
“I’m sorry, I don’t have time for any more questions.” He tipped his hat before taking a step backwards, “Enjoy your stay in our fair city!”  
                He made a speedy exit in the opposite direction.  
“Hm, a big Diamond City welcome from the mayor.” Piper shook her head, “Feel honored yet?”  
“Hungry.” Haylen held her stomach.  
“I’d recommend the noodles…”  Piper swung her arms nervously, her hands catching themselves repeatedly, “So…Anything in particular you folks came to Diamond City for?”  
“What’s it to you?” Liera asked.  
“You help _me_ , I help _you_ …Just tryin’ to pay it forward.”  
                Danse answered, “We’re trying to find someone.”  
“Trying to find someone?  Who?”  
“Her name is Professor Scara.”  
“I know her.  Real Ice Queen.  I’ll take you to where she’s at, if you want.”  
“It’s not too late at night?” Rhys asked.  
“Nah.  She and her girlfriend, wife, whatever- those two teach into the evening.  This city never sleeps.” Piper walked to the small cutout and took the first step down a flight of stairs, “C’mon.  The sooner the better.  I’ve got work to do.”  
                The view widened as Liera got closer.  The smells of hot food thickened as she approached the opening.  The moment her boots hit the precipice, she was stunned.  
                Diamond City looked like something out of a post-apocalyptic comic book.  Bright colors and lights dotted the buildings.  They’d even manage to craft shop signs for their designated establishments.  It was clear this area was some kind of stadium- or had been- but the way it was constructed…  
                The residential buildings surrounded the outskirts while what seemed like a hub of sorts dotted the middle.  Planks laid across the dirt formed walkways that guided its inhabitants and travelers alike to their destination.  Music played from radios high on posts.  
                By Commonwealth standards, it was a metropolis.  
                By Frontier standards, it was a safety risk.  
                Settlers that live out on the brim of Militia space know not to make too much noise or light up their homes at night.  Drawing attention to themselves causes more harm than good.  
                But here, fires burned hot, with smoke stacks billowing in the sky like a signal.  Lights lit up almost every corner.  The walls were high; and for the most part, were probably safe.  
_“’Probably’ wasn’t ever good enough to keep the IMC out.  Can’t imagine anything around here would be too different.”  
                _ The group descended the stairs, moving passed a barbershop with someone in the chair getting a haircut.  
“If anyone is…one of those _things_ , it’s that secretary of his.  Her and her perfect hair.”  The woman in the seat gossiped.  
                Another woman standing next to her mumbled, “Mmmhmmm.”  
“The mayor’s secretary?” The barber kept snipping, “Come on, ma, I cut her hair myself, and I know human hair.”  
“That’s just it, Johnny.  You wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.”  
                A notification popped up on Liera’s HUD.  
“Archive updated – Entry label: “Species_of_the_Commonwealth: Suspected Synth References.”  
                Liera sighed.  
                One guard whistled, leaning up against the wall, “Yo Piper! So what, you're in the Brotherhood of Steel now?”  
                He, along with the others patrolling the “streets,” wore caged helmets and padded armor that were cut to size for their limbs.  
“They’re just passin’ through, Johnson.”  
“Well hey!  Long as you keep your heavy artillery out of the city limits, you’re welcome here.” He spit to the side, nodding at Danse, “Now _you_ have the right idea.  Power Armor.  Only way to travel.”  
                Danse gave him a wave, and the group kept following their guide.  
“Everyone’s a little stir crazy what with the kidnappings.” Piper stopped in front of a building, turning towards them, “There hasn’t been any missing persons reports in a couple months, but everyone’s worried that just means the Institute’s gotten better at what they do.”  
                She reached in her pocket, and lit a cigarette, “I've been investigating these creeps for over a year now. The Commonwealth's boogeyman. Feared and hated by everyone.”  
“You can say that again.” Rhys snickered, “Found anything useful?”  
“Not much.  They’re not very consistent in their methods, though.  Sometimes they snatch people in the middle of the night. And sometimes they leave old Synths behind to remind us that they're out there. But to this day, there's one thing nobody really knows...Where the Institute actually is.  Or how to get to it.”  
                Liera’s stomach turned over on itself.  She looked around, taking in the high-rise walls and cheery attitude.  The false blanket of safety.  The elimination of variables.  Compromise.  
                What happens when you draw attention to the normalcy.  
_“It’s the perfect ‘controlled environment…’”_  
                A term Sage had drilled into her head since boot camp.  
“We’re working diligently to find them.  And we will.” Danse growled, “I can't _wait_ to pay the Institute a visit…”  
“The Brotherhood of Steel doesn't do subtle, that’s for sure. From what I've heard, you guys take whatever they want. Especially if it's high-tech.  Makes me wonder what you’re wanting with Diamond City’s lead robotics specialist.”  
                She pulled her cigarette, her fingerless wraps orange from the glow.  
                Piper was a sly fox.  That was something Liera was finding to be for certain.  
“That’s Brotherhood business.” Rhys barked.  
“In any event,” Danse interrupted, “Thank you, citizen. You've been quite cooperative.”  
“Hmph.” She rubbed her cigarette out, sticking the last half back in her box, “Cold steel, angry scowls, lousy haircuts.  Not to mention the uniforms leave something to be desired.  Brotherhood sure knows how to take all the fun out of dressing in rivets and leather...”  
                Piper snickered at Rhys and Haylen’s scoured faces, “You wanna be known for something more? Come see me in my office before you leave.”  She shoved her hands in her pockets, turning her back to them with a wave, “’Propaganda is just as important as bullets,’ after all…”  
                She disappeared into the flowing traffic of Diamond City, and the group exchanged looks.  
“Don’t look at me.” Liera held her hands up, “She didn’t say anything about _my_ uniform or haircut.”  
                Rhys huffed, “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”  
“Definitely not rivets and leather, I’ll tell you that much…”  Haylen mumbled.  
“Pft.  Speak for yourself.” Liera shrugged, “Actually, I take that back…I’ve always been a, ‘cold steel,’ kind of woman.”  
“O-kay,” Danse interrupted the three of them, “How about we pay Scara a visit and get on with it?”

 

…

 

                The building was lined with workbenches and lab stations.  According to the sign outside, the science center was marked as a public destination and all equipment was free to use.  Still, walking in without knocking seemed rude.  Even more so; eavesdropping on the two bickering women in lab coats.  
“Scara…I have a new theory how the Institute makes the Synths.”  
                The shorter, less kept woman spoke to the other.  
“Oh, no…We banned talking about this, remember?  After last time?  The shouting?  Me sleeping on the cold floor of the lab for three nights?”  
“That was your choice…”  
                Liera held in a laugh.  
_“A lady-scientist couple? Interesting.”  
_                 It reminded her of when Sage and Jack got into it about the _“morals and ethics of melting human flesh with the use of thermite gas.”_  
“And seriously…” Scara continued, “Growing synths from the ground using recombinant plant nuclei?  I mean, how could they even…”  
“Ah ha!  You do want to talk about it!”  
                A message started sprawling across her visor at the speed of light.  Tests, hypothesis based on Scara’s statement, and information that even _she_ didn’t understand.  
“Come on, EV, stop-“ She took her helmet off, irritated.  
                Scara turned around, sighing at the recon squad.  
“Uh…Oh look!  We have visitors!  Doctor Duff, dear, if you could bother them while I walk away from this conversation…”  
                She started to leave before Danse cleared his throat.  
“Actually, uh…ma’am, we’re here to speak with you.”  
                She stopped dead in her tracks, her shoulders slumping forward before facing them.  
“Hm…Not the answer I expected, but not altogether unexpected at the same time. Not when dealing with the Brotherhood.”  
“You’ve heard of us?” Haylen asked.  
“Are you joking?” Scara let out a condescending laugh, “Ever since that behemoth you call an airship arrived here, everyone in Diamond City's talking about it.  The Brotherhood's the biggest thing to hit the Commonwealth since, well... since the Institute set up shop here.”  
                Doctor Duff chewed on her lip, clearly nervous by the military presence.  Liera looked away, finding a small terminal behind her.  
_“Hm…”  
_                 Scara took her place next to Duff, “Perhaps we should start again... My name's Professor Scara.  So, now that I've formally introduced myself, perhaps you'd care to tell me why you're here?”  
                Danse did his best to sound more professional, “I've been sent by the Brotherhood of Steel to ask for your help.”  
“How _very_ interesting…I wasn't aware that you people ever "asked" for anything.”  
“Ma’am.” Rhys cut the word short and hard.  
                Danse held up a hand, calming the hot-headed Knight.  
                Liera took the moment of distraction to slip her Data Knife out of it’s holster, putting it behind her back and leaning on the table in front of the terminal.  She crossed her ankles, giving off a relaxed impression.  
“Please. The research I do here is delicate.” Scara looked at her in disgust, as if her getting too close to the terminal was offensive.  
                Liera put her knife in the back of her belt, raising her hands up and standing straight, “Apologies.”  
                Scara pinched her temple, “While I'm _flattered_ that the Brotherhood of Steel would find me useful, I can't help but be wary of your methods and motivations.  I certainly won't walk blindly into a situation without all of the details.”  
“We have a…robot that need repairing.”  
                Danse really needed to work on his lying skills.  
“Please don't insult my intelligence. I'm sure that ship of yours has plenty of able-bodied technicians that can fix up your robot.  If they sent you out here to find me, they're looking for something a little more specialized.”  
                He was blowing it.  
“You’re right.” Liera stepped in, perhaps projecting her own irritation for not being asked to work on whatever robotics issue Maxson needed resolved, “We do have plenty of able-bodies, but we wanted the best.  If you’re telling us that you’re not it, we’ll just find someone else, I suppose.”  
                Danse’s neck snapped to her, but she held her gaze on Scara.  
_“First one to look away loses.”  
_                 And it wasn’t Liera.  
“Now…Now hold on a moment.”  
_“Gotchya.”  
                _ The Professor cursed under her breath, “If you think you're going to find someone else in the Commonwealth with my level of expertise, you're sorely mistaken.”  
“Does that mean you’ll work with us?”  
“…Yes.  Now if you'll excuse me, I still have a few loose ends to tie up before I leave.”  
                She let loose a deep sigh and turned to Duff.  
                Liera looked over her shoulder, finding Danse’s helmet trained on her.  She gave him a quick wink and a sly grin.  
“We’ll contact Elder Maxson and arrange a transport immediately.” He said before walking towards the door.  
                Scara, as unenthusiastic as one could be, answered.  
“You know here to find me…”

 

…

 

                Liera and the others stood outside the science center, back behind the bustle of the main hub.  
“We should find a quiet place to contact the _Prydwen_.” Danse decided.  
“We’re in a back alley.” Liera yawned, “Seems quiet enough to me.”  
“You’re not worried someone might overhear, or…intercept?”  
“Come, now.  This is EV we’re talking about…Not some Marvin.”  
“A…What?”  
“Nothing…EV, open the channel.  Get Mad Max on the line.”  
“Knight!”  
“What?!”  
“Patching through, Pilot.” EV announced, “Channel established.  Opening the line.”  
                A static sound came through the visual on Liera’s wrist computer.  
**“This is Elder Maxson.”  
** “Recon Squad Gladius reporting.” Danse sounded tense.  
                Given how their last conversation went, it didn’t come as a surprise.  
**“Hopefully with better news, Paladin.”**  
“Professor Scara has agreed to assist the Brotherhood.  Requesting immediate transport.”  
**“I’ll send a Vertibird with haste.”** He hummed to himself, as if calming his nerves before speaking,  
**“When should I expect your team’s arrival?”**  
“The assault on the castle will commence tomorrow, as planned.  We will return to the _Prydwen_ shortly thereafter.”  
                Maxson sucked his teeth, **“You’re still going through with this foolish plan…even without Brotherhood support?”**  
“You gave me a choice, Elder.  You informed me that this joint operation could be carried out at my discretion.”  
“And,” Liera cut in, “We took back the airport, with about half the resources, on _your_ order.”  
**“In any case, Paladin, you may be willing to throw the lives of our soldiers into _unnecessary_ compromise, but I am not.  Have Knight Rhys, Lastimosa, and Scribe Haylen accompany Professor Scara back to the _Prydwen._ ”  
**                Danse looked away, and then back at Liera, “They’re _my_ squad members...”  
**“And you all operate under _my_ Brotherhood.”**  
“Not me.  Not primarily.” Liera kicked off the wall, walking closer to Danse.  
**“Careful, Knight.  You’re walking a very fine line between insubordination and treason.”**  
“If that was a threat to the only Militia assets on Planet Earth, I might be inclined to record it in my reconnaissance logs.  _Was_ that a threat, Elder Maxson?”  
                He didn’t have an answer…So she continued.  
“Assisting the Minutemen and establishing a universal distress response network in the Commonwealth is in direct correlation with the Frontier Militia’s first contact operations process.  I’m under a strict obligation to carry out this mission for the good of-“  
**“I thought I made it clear that while you call _my_ ship a home, you will operate under _my_ jurisdiction.”  
**                 Liera scanned the faces of Haylen and Rhys, unsure how far she wanted to dig the trench between her and Maxson in their presence.  
“Last time I checked, the Brotherhood and Militia alliance has been _mutually_ beneficial.”  
**“Parasitic in nature, at best.”**  
“The Brotherhood occupation at, let’s see…Graygarden, the police station, Boston Airport, Fort Strong, and, oh - Quartermaster Teagan’s new schematics - say _otherwise_.”  
                There was a loud bang in the microphone and the sound of cracking glass.  
**“Danse, Lastimosa- you have 24 hours to make it back to the airport before I strip you both of your rank and issue a warrant out for your arrest.  Do I make myself clear?”**  
“Excuse me?” Liera’s fists tightened, “Paladin Danse has served under you for _how_ long-”  
“EV, cut the channel-“ Danse reached his armored hands out for Liera, and she swatted him away with her prosthetic.  
“-and you’re just going to threaten him like that?  Because _my_ Commander was almost COURT MARSHALLED for having my back, and I’m pretty damn sure-“  
“EV!”  
“Channel disconnected.”  
                Danse jabbed his finger into the darkness, shouting as loud as he could, “Walk it off, soldier!”  
                Liera’s fists were still bunched at her sides before she decided where she’d spend her time cooling off.  
“Gonna hit the showers before I hit a _person_ …”  
                She adjusted her vest, marching past them.  
_“If it wasn’t for Gladius, I’d have bailed off Maxson’s shitty fucking blimp a long time ago.”_

…

 

                As Liera left, Danse felt the rising tension between the small group.  
“What do we do, Paladin?” Rhys asked, his voice barely over a whisper.  
                Danse shook his head, “Both of you will return to the _Prydwen_ as he asked.  There’s no need for _all_ of us to be reprimanded…”  
                Rhys threw his hands up, “You know?!...” Then he relaxed, “When we first agreed to helping Preston, I thought it was a bad idea.  I thought Lexington was a bad idea.  I thought helping the Spetsnaz would end up with us having knives in our backs.  And you know what?  My instincts might still be spot on.  But everything we’ve done, good or bad…” He took a deep breath, “It felt _right._   It’s been a long time since an operation felt _right_ …And that’s because we followed _your_ lead, Paladin.  Not Elder Maxson’s.  So with all due respect, I’d like to stay by your side and deal with whatever reprimand comes my way…Sir.”  
                He lowered his gaze to the ground, and Haylen put a hand on his shoulder.  
“I’m with Rhys.  He can’t punish _all_ of us.  It would start a riot.”  
                Danse wished he could rub the sides of his head, closing his eyes at the pain.  He felt humbled, sure.  Honored that those under his command would run through a wall on his behalf.  Satisfied that they backed his actions _now_ more so than they had at the start.  But they were still under his protection, and he couldn’t lead them farther astray.  
“This isn’t what we need right now.” Danse mumbled, pointing a finger at Rhys, “We don’t need divisiveness.  If that’s what we’re reduced to- a divided party- the enemies win and any allies we make will take advantage of that weakened state.  Both of you will return to the _Prydwen_ , and that’s the end of it.  Understood?”  
                Haylen and Rhys kicked their heels together, their fists slamming into their chests.  
“Yes, Sir!”

 

…

 

                The signs were easy enough to follow.  The stalls were a long, wooden row of doors and shower curtains.  She was skeptical at first.  If she’d been any taller, the privacy would have been limited.  
_“I guess being short isn’t always bad…”  
_                 The water was cold on her skin, sending shivers all over.  She looked at the pile of bloody, dirty clothes that sat on top of a built-in rack.  
_“Shoulda brought my backups with me…”  
_                 Boots crunched in front of her, and she froze.  The door on the other side opened, and the curtain pulled across the rails.  
_“Seriously?  There’s like 10 vacant stalls.  You had to pick the one right next to me?”  
_                 The person started unzipping their clothes and dismantling whatever else covered their body.  
“Lastimosa?  That you?”  
“Oh…” Liera let out a sigh of relief, “Hey, Haylen.”  
“Think I was some creep?”  
“For a second there, yeah.”  
                She relaxed, closing her eyes and embracing the icy liquid that let the blood pool at her feet.  
“Here.”  
                A hand reached under the stall with a small bar of soap.  
“Ah-“ Liera took it, all too eagerly.  
“And…”  
                An orange Brotherhood jumpsuit folded itself over the divider between them.  
“It might be a little tight.  It’s one of my extras, and you’ll certainly…fill it out, more than I do.”  
“What are you trying to say?!”  
“You’ve got a lot more muscle. And other…What did you tell Maxson? ‘Assets?’”  
“Hah! Smart ass…” Liera chuckled, “Well, thank you.  Really.  It’ll be nice to not put the same old crusty jumpsuit back on.”  
“I’m sure.”  
                Liera cocked her head, “Why is your backup uniform orange?”  
“My other Scribe’s uniforms weren’t cleaned yet.  And, they don’t have a lot of extra maroon suits in supply.  This was the best I could get before we deployed.”  
“Hm. Makes sense…”  
                They showered in each other’s company, enjoying the bit of peace without “manly banter.”  
                The change of pace was nice.  She’d wished she had more time to spend with just her.  
“You think we could talk about a few things, that…Well, stay between you and I?” Haylen kept her voice low, and maybe for a good reason.  
“Anything you need, Haylen.”  
                Liera eyed the wall between them.  
“I, uh...I joined the Brotherhood not too long ago. I used to be like you...wandering alone.” She seemed hesitant to continue, “So, I know what it feels like when every single person you bump into sticks a gun in your face.”  
“You can say _that_ again…”  
                Haylen let out a quiet laugh, “I originally signed up seeking protection and comradeship…but I'm starting to wonder if joining the Brotherhood of Steel was a good choice.”  
                The change in conversation topic threw Liera for a loop.  
“That’s a bit surprising to hear…What’s got you second-guessing?”  
“The Brotherhood's message of hope for the future is idealistic and noble, but their methods leave a lot to be desired.  The leadership seems especially misguided. Instead of diplomacy, they wield violent confrontation to exert control.”  
                Liera interrupted her for a moment, “You’re saying ‘The Brotherhood,’ and ‘they,’ like you’re not part of them…”  
“I…I am.  Maybe I’m just wording it poorly.” She sighed, “I've been…or _was_ …successfully avoiding the fighting by following the career path of a field scribe.  I just don’t know how much longer I can stand the sight of spilled blood over my own moral fiber.”  
“Well, you already know my opinion on Maxson.” Liera huffed, “I guess I’m just having a hard time gripping the rest of it.  I mean, it’s not like I don’t understand where you’re coming from.  We’ve certainly had some sketchy orders given to us.  But we haven’t necessarily followed them.”  
“… _You_ haven’t.”  
                Liera chewed the inside of her cheek, remembering with a solid pain the hardships Gladius had succumbed to before her arrival.  
“Hating Synths and Ghouls just because they’re not _human_ …I dealt with it.  But when I met you, heard your story about the IMC and Militia…Got to know EV…I guess I realized just how ridiculous some of the Brotherhood’s platforms are.”  
                Liera shook her head, embracing the trickle that cleansed the headache rising to her forehead.  
“I still question which side the Brotherhood would be on if they were in my war.  I’m scared I’m fighting for Earth’s smaller form of the IMC.” She put a forearm on the wall just under the running water, arching her neck, “I think maybe that’s why I have such a hard time following Maxson.  Danse, on the other hand…”  
“He’s one hell of a squad leader.  I don’t know what we’d do without him.”  
“Yeah…he sure is.” A small smile tugged on her lips, “And, without him, I’d still be wandering the Commonwealth dodging people ‘sticking guns in my faces.’”  
                Haylen let out a louder laugh than before, “I met him as an Initiate…Less adventurous than our first encounter with you, but still.  When I screwed up, he taught me to dust myself off and move on.  I've watched him risk his own life based on nothing more than principle alone.”  
“Don’t get me started on him putting his life on the line.” Liera snickered, “It’s basically his M-O.”  
“He’s all soldier.  Protocol is his bread and butter.”  
“Yep… _All_ decorum…”  
                The sadness in her voice slipped.  She’d put too much emotion into the disappointing admission than she wanted to.  
“Back to the point.” Liera cleared her throat, “I think we can both agree that we’re in it for the team, and not Maxson.”  
“I'm still Brotherhood and I swore an oath to stand by my Brothers and Sisters.  If I suspect anyone for a second that they’ll bring harm to my squad, I’ll put them in the ground.  Good people are hard to come by nowadays, and I trust you, Danse, and Rhys with my life.” The fervor in her voice died down, “But, well…yeah.  You’re right.”  
                Haylen turned her faucet off, and Liera did the same.  She started drying herself with the sleeve of the suit Haylen gave her, not excited to have a wet arm.  
“I knew there was something special about you when you stumbled into our compound and helped us take down those Ferals.” Haylen started, “And everything you've done since then for Danse, for the Brotherhood...even for yourself...has proven me right.”  
                Liera paused for a moment, stepping her legs into the orange jumpsuit.  
“I suppose all that remains to be seen are your plans for the future.”  
                She closed her eyes, pursing her lips before answering, “I’ll have to go back, one day…”  
“I figured…” Haylen pulled the curtain on her stall open, stepping out, “We're just all going to miss you around here.”  
                Liera struggled to put on her new garment.  
“Ye-“ She growled under her breath as the opening tightened around her thighs, “Yeah.”  
“But I have confidence that whatever you choose will continue to make the Commonwealth a better place.”  
                The fabric snapped to her skin, lodged under her ass, “Uh-huh.”  
                She bit her lip as she tugged, careful not to rip the seams with her prosthetic.  
“’Uh-huh?’  That’s it?”  
                Liera pulled harder, finally getting the stupid uniform up to her hips.  
“I, uh…Sorry.  I’m quickly learning that you’re a _lot_ smaller than I am.”  
                The suit hugged her curves, riding up in all the wrong places as she stretched it over her shoulders.  She groaned under her breath, trying to pull the zipper up the whole way.  
                Rolling her eyes, she peeled the suit off from the waist down to take her bra off.  
_“Okay, let’s try this again-“  
_                 She pulled the zipper as hard as she could without breaking it, and the teeth jammed half-way to its mark.  
“Is…uhm…Everything okay in there?”  
                Liera sighed, pulling open the curtain, “Hope you’ve got room for all my gear in that pack of yours…”  
                The hanging fabric bunched in her fist, still pinned firmly against the shower’s door frame.  She gave Haylen the most glaring look she could.  
“Oh-… _Oh_.  Oh, my.” Haylen covered her mouth, chuckling behind a mischievous grin, “ _This_ is going to be good.”

 

…

 

                The hub of Diamond City, so to speak, was lively.  
                Salespeople shouted at citizens passing by, doing their best at selling their products with cheesy taglines.  A butcher practiced their craft in the corner, seemingly friendlier than the one in the Metro.  A doctor examined a patient with a certain pride for running his small clinic, churning out customers one after another with a smile.  
                The Power Noodle stand was glistening under the night sky, it’s red cloth-for-a-roof shimmering in the slight breeze. Danse sat on a bench drinking a cup of water given to him by a vendor.  His Power Armor was shuffled off to the side like a statue standing guard.  
                As Rhys came back from the room they’d rented, he plugged his ear with a finger.  
“It’s not the best room in the house, but it’ll get you guys through the night.” He joked.  
                Dugout Inn.  Room number 2. The owners had been a bit hesitant to rent to the Brotherhood, but Danse and Rhys had their own way of persuading people…  
                Intimidation with underhanded diplomacy.  
“At least it has a working shower.” Danse shrugged, “Felt good to scrub the Commonwealth off.”  
“Damn straight.”  Rhys looked over his shoulder, “Looks like that guy is about to leave.  Wanna grab the stools?”  
                The “noodle bar,” was now vacant, and Danse gave him a nod.  He tipped his glass, wanting to finish what was left.  
“Uh…Paladin?”  
                Rhys froze, staring off in the distance.  He snapped himself out of whatever was going on, and looked away with an uncharacteristic giggle.  
_“What is he-“_  
                Danse’s eyes widened, and he choked on his water.  
                Liera was in a standard, orange Brotherhood jumpsuit.  One that was _way_ too small.  One that had the zipper stuck right between her breasts, and damn near _under_ them.  
                He dropped his cup, beating his chest.  He leapt off the bench, trying to catch it before it rolled down the slope.  
                Getting himself together would be a harder challenge.  
“Lasti _mo-_ saaa,” Rhys joked, “You’re in, ah…Rare form.”  
“Shut-“ She jabbed a finger in his chest, “Up.”  
                He fell into a salute, “I’ll do whatever you tell me to.”  
“Fuck off.”  
“Aye-aye.  Fucking off.”  
“UGH.”  
                Danse tried to slink past them, maybe in enough time to get his food and leave.  
“Paladin,” Haylen jogged up to him, shrugging off her pack, “Your uniform and Lastimosa’s gear are bagged in here.  You should let them air out before you go out tomorrow.  Just try not to get my pack all bloodied up…Please.  Sir.”  
                He gulped, “Sure.”  
“Are you feeling well?”  
“What?” He blinked back to her, “Yes.”  
“You’re awfully flushed,” She held her hand to his forehead, “Clammy, too.”  
“I’m fine.”  
“Hm…Maybe we should get a second opinion.”  She turned around, cupping her mouth, “Hey!  Lastimosa!”  
                Danse tensed, his shoulders jumping and his elbows digging in his sides.  
“Haylen…” He growled, “What are you doing…”  
“My job, Paladin Danse.  If EV can diagnose you with a scan form Lastimosa’s helmet, it would save me quite a bit of time putting everything in a report.”  
“I’m 5 catcalls away from putting those bloody, slimy, infected fatigues back on…or leveling this whole goddamn city.”                 Liera marched over, giving Haylen the smuggest of looks, “I mean seriously, even my shemagh is drenched in fucking ‘Feral.’”  
                Her eyes twitched at Danse, and she cocked her head, “You getting sick or something?”  
“That’s why we called you over.” Haylen patted her shoulder, “Think EV could give us a…Diagnostic?”  
                Her voice rang with a certain tone of sarcasm, and it flowed with the slight bob of her head.  
                Liera raised a brow, her lips creasing into a warning signal.  
“Why, yes, Scribe Haylen. I think she can.”  She slid open the panel on her wrist, looking down at the helmet on her hip, “EV?”  
“Lastimosa.  Stop.  That’s an order.” Danse barked.  
“What in the hell are you two doing to him?” Rhys stopped on the other side of Liera.  
                He leaned forward, looking past her, “Haylen?”  
“Look at him.”  
                Rhys eyed him up, “He looks fine?”  
**“Pilot Lastimosa-“** EV began her report.  
                Danse’s heart stopped.  He didn’t know what he did to deserve the teasing and torment that fell upon him from not only Liera, but _Haylen,_ too.  
**“The Vertibird transport sent for Professor Scara, Scribe Haylen, Knight Rhys, and yourself has arrived.  I have reiterated the fact that you will not be joining them...Twice.”  
**                 Liera almost pouted, and slid the scanner closed.  
“ _Thanks_ , EV...”  
                Danse jumped at the opportunity to take the heat off himself.  
“Haylen, Rhys- Go get Scara and get on that Vertibird.  We’ll see you when we get back.”  
                Haylen and Rhys saluted him, “Yes, Sir!”  
                And while Rhys fell in line, Haylen left them with a wave to Liera and a deadly grin on her cheek.  
                He reminded himself to never leave the two women alone… _ever_ , again.  
 

…

 

                Danse was doing his best not to stare.  And she did her best not to make it difficult for him.  
                Not really.  
“So,” Liera put an elbow on the counter, leaning forward, “What were you drinkin’?”  
“…Water.”  
“Ah-huh…” She turned towards the robot, “Got anything else?”  
“Nan-ni shimasho-ka?”  
                The robot’s robotic arms flailed in various activities; most notably – making noodles.  
                Danse narrowed his eyes, “What are those strange noises coming from that robot?”  
                Liera grinned, silently laughing at him.  She typed away on her wrist computer.  
“Sounds like an Asian language...” Danse’s brow pinched, “Wait a second...maybe it's Chinese!”  
“Chi-what?”  
“Nan-ni shimasho-ka?”  
                Danse jabbed a finger, “Robot! Identify yourself!”  
“Lexicon…Loading at 89%.” EV wrote.  
                Liera shook her head at him.  
“All right, robot...You can drop the act.” Danse lowered his voice, shifting from good cop to bad cop with a boom, “Who are you working for!? What's your mission here!?”  
“Nan-ni shimasho-ka?”  
                Liera bit back another laugh.  
_“I can’t wait for this.”  
_                 Danse whispered, angry and dangerous, “You might think you're clever, but if you step out of line, I'll melt you into slag.” He pointed two fingers at the robot, “I've got my eyes on you.”  
“Nan-ni shimasho-ka?”  
                Liera cleared her throat, holding her wrist computer to her mouth, “2-Sara rāmen.”  
“Tadachini.”  
“Dōmo arigatōgozaimashita”  
                She slid her computer shut, and couldn’t help but bust out laughing at the look on his face.  
“What…How-“  
“I can speak 27 different languages with EV’s help.  Most of which probably don’t exist on this planet.”  She smirked, “Our robot friend here speaks Askarian.”  
                Liera planted her elbows on the edge of the counter and rested her chin on her fists, “When I first enlisted in the Pilot’s Program, I was bunked with my best friend Sage and an Askarian woman named Akane.”  She laughed, shaking her head, “Akane Mayumi…Man, did the three of us _not_ get along at first…”  
“Everything worked out, apparently.”  
“Oh, yeah.   See, Grenier and I had walked the beat together for about a year prior.  His teammates were Miller and…Royal.” She swallowed, recovering quickly, “I checked their results almost every damn day.  I wanted to see where Grenier and his team was stacking up against ours.  They had a strong lead, at first…but when _we_ got our shit together?  Heh, well…There’s a reason the 6 of us were given our own Company.”  
“Company?”  
“Yeah.  Alpha Company.  The Marauder Corps ‘A-Team,’…Literally.  A Company within a brigade within a special task force.  It’s just as confusing as it sounds.”  
“I’m glad I didn’t have to ask.” He let out a quiet laugh.  
“Us Militants were _pret_ -ty unorganized throughout the war…We wore at as a badge of pride because the IMC never knew what the fuck we were up to.  We were sporadic, impulsive, unpredictable…”  
                Like her.  
                She cut the conversation off, eyeing up the noodles as they were served.  She used it as an excuse to stop talking.  
“Tell you what,” Danse took a bite, slurping down the food like a baby bird, “First chance we get, we’ll grab a drink and toast to the ‘good old days.’”  
                Watching him stumble through noodles, and a heartfelt offering, snapped her back in place.  He was pretty good at doing that.  
“Do you mean an ‘alcoholic beverage?’”  
                He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, “Yes, Liera.  That’s what I meant.”  
“Huh.  Wow.” She smiled, looking away from him, “First you buy me dinner, then it’s offering me a drink, _now_ you drop the first name bomb.”  And then she gave him a wink, “Should wear this get-up more often.”  
                Danse put his bowl down, calmly.  He held a fist to his mouth, exhaling and patting his chest once.  He put his elbow on the counter, and one hand on his knee.  
“You’re right.  You should.”  
                Her bowl wobbled on the countertop as her elbow bumped the edge.  Her _real_ elbow.  
“Ow-fu-…” She rubbed it, then looked at him, “Wait.  _What_?”  
“I said: You should.”  
“Uh…”  
“Because…”  
                He let out the first half of a whistle, rising. The second half, falling.  
                A catcall.  
                She bit her lip.  Her face got hot.  Her fists tightened.  
“I.  _Hate_.  You.”  
                He gave her a blinding grin, one that made her face hot for other reasons.  
“No you don’t.”  He turned back to his food, “Careful, little robot.  Your parts are showing.”  
“Danse, I swear to fucking-“  
“Nan-ni shimasho-ka?” The robot asked.  
“NO!”  She yelled.  
                Danse started _laughing_.  Probably harder than she’d ever heard.  
“I’m gonna get you back for this.” Liera kept eating, “And when I do…”  
“I’m sure I’ll enjoy it half as much as I’ve enjoyed this.”  
“Hmph.”  She gave him the darkest glare she could, “Challenge accepted.”  
                _That_ caught a kink in the armor…Because for a split second, he looked scared.  
_“Like throwing-a-match-in-a-gas-tank kind of scared.”  
                _ It wasn’t that far from the truth.

 

…

 

                Danse had taken his Power Armor to a nearby service station and returned to the room they rented for the night.  It was far from anything glamorous.  
                The wooden walls had decorated paper glued to them, flaked and peeling.  The couch was dusty and probably riddled with mold.  The desk had a broken fan on it, and no chair to sit on. The cleanest thing in the room was the bed, and even so, it didn’t provide much of a standard to be measured against.  Still, an oil lamp gave everything a soft glow.  It was calm, at least.  
                All except the bloodied and battered uniforms “laying out to dry.”  
                He pulled a bed roll from Haylen’s pack, fanning it out.  
“You’re sleeping on the floor?”  
                Liera ran her fingers through her hair, shaking them to break up the wet strands.  The way each feathered end dangled along the edge of her jaw gave her a peculiar look.  
                Danse tore his focus away from her and back to what he was doing.  
“I’m not sure if I trust that mattress to not be infested…” He huffed, “And I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”  
                She turned her chin, the veil of her spikey hair covering the rest of her features except that _smile…_  
                And her velvet laugh - the one that was adorned with an accent that drove him crazy - made his heart jump.  
“We’ve slept in the same bed together before, Danse.”  
“I-I know-“  
                He dipped his head the other direction, _“Get ahold of yourself.”_  
“-What I _meant_ was-“  
                The soft padding of her boots came closer.  She rounded the corner of the mattress and sat on the floor next to him. _  
_                 It didn’t help that she was in anything other than her obnoxious, jammed-zipper-mind-boggling jumpsuit.  He couldn’t blame her; seeing how the rest of her clothes were stained in gore.  
                She sat on her side, her feet folded behind her.  Her weight was balanced on her right arm, planted firmly on the wooden planks.  
“You know,” She started, “It didn’t really make me uncomfortable.”  
                He was expecting one of her devious smirks, the one she put on when she knew _exactly_ what she was doing.  Teasing him.  Seeing how far she could push before he breached decorum, burned the sponsorship handbook, and every rule of non-fraternization along with it.  
                But her face was strained.  The _other_ look she wore too often, nowadays.  A mixture of sadness, focus, and unwavering resolve.  Lost in thought – lost somewhere far away from the present.  
                He gave her the warmest smile he could without making it seemed like he had ulterior motives.  
“It was nice.” He cleared his throat, silently cursing himself for the blandness of the remark, “I only wish it had been under…better circumstances.”  
                Liera’s brow perked up.  Her eyelids gave him a perfect view of her purple, pink, orange – the irises that looked like small nebulas with slits between them.  
_“Oh, no.  No-“  
_                 Her chin turned slowly, and the grin he feared pulled her cheek up.  The slight crinkle next to her eye came next.  And her teeth, while not actually sharpened, seemed to grow fangs.  
                Taunting fangs.  A set that, unlike most other beings in the Commonwealth, he wouldn’t mind being sunk into him.  
“Better circumstances, you say?” She leaned in closer, her eyes narrowing, “Such as…?”

…

 

                Every time she did this, she felt guilty…almost.  
                To pick apart this man’s armor, for her own amusement, just to see how he’d react. Knowing nothing would ever come of it.  Any possibilities killed by her want to protect him from a tragic separation when she left, his fierce loyalty to the Brotherhood way of life, or the fear of diving into something too quickly with a man she hadn’t known for long…  
                She almost jumped when Danse put his arm behind her as he turned _in_ to her rather than pulling away like he usually did.  
“For someone who said, ‘we can’t,’ you make it awfully hard ‘not to.’”  
                Liera gulped, an unfamiliar warmth slinking through her cheeks and up to her ears.  The tips of them heated up like a coil.  
“And for someone who said, ‘I know,’ you sure don’t seem to ‘agree.’”  
                Her voice was wavering. The practiced coolness of it was reduced to mush as her nerves got the better of her.  
                A cleaved breath left her lips as his hand traced around her hip.  His calloused palm snaked up her side, her body curving towards him; her eyelids fluttering before they opened in shock.  
                He stopped at the dip in her waist, pulling her into him.  Her hands caught his chest.  
                She breathed the same air he did, their lips just barely touching.  Her heartbeat shook her body, stuck in his grip, held together by his sheer strength and…  
                This side of him was new.  
                Maybe she’d pulled it out of him.  Maybe she’d pushed too hard.  
“I _do_ have a habit of questioning things.”  
                His fingertips left a cold trail, inching up her back.  The shifting fabric was deafening in the quiet room.  
                Liera shuddered, trying to keep her composure.  His other hand, large and rough, cupped her jaw while his thumb caressed her cheek.  
                She was becoming undone.  The bundle of stress, anxiety, lost love, guilt, worry- all of it was unraveled to expose a needing core.  Something that yearned to be fulfilled; and apparently required a foreign touch.  
                But he’d wandered too far- past the point of no return.  The pads of his fingers dancing along the metal plates of her spinal implant.  Even covered in the thin divide of the jumpsuit, his caressing gave her deepest desires away.  
                Her hands sprang from their relaxed state.  She clamped his forearms, her chest rubbing against his as her back bent into a stiff, rigid arch…  
                And she made a… _sound._  
                The charming, bad-boy persona he wore as a façade broke.  He was back to the prowler-in-floodlights look he defaulted to when her flirting got to be too much.  The fear on his face was almost _comical._  
                What _wasn’t_ was her pure, unconditional humility.  
“It’s, uh…” Her words came breathless, “Sensit-“  
                He did it _again._  
                Her hands jumped to his biceps and she braced herself as the sheer sensation of ecstasy rendered her body vulnerable to every touch, every smoldering look he gave her, every twitch of his lips and-  
                Her body was numb until a strong arm embraced her at the waist.  She slung her arms around his sturdy shoulders before she could piece together what was happening.  
                His mouth was soft on hers, save for the nips of pain from the scab on her lower lip.  He was a shy kisser.  Inexperienced.  Or maybe just unsure of what they were doing.  
                She led him with her lips, and held the side of his neck, her thumb brushing against the hard line of his jaw.  He stole the air from her as he pulled away, his nose still hovering near hers…  
                Sitting there, tangled in a mess of limbs and unwinding emotions, he’d managed to breach the invisible wall that divided them…  
                She wanted to shrink into nothing.  To cry and run and pretend none of this was happening.  
                It felt too good, too _right_ , and she wasn’t sure she was ready to find that in someone again.  
_“It’s too late for that…”  
_                 Whether or not she wanted it to be true, she already _did_ find that. In _him_.  
                To act on it, to give it form; room to grow, evolve – blossom until it peaked… _that_ was a _decision._  
                One he didn’t look like he was ready to make, either.  
“We…” He choked on the word, “We can’t…”  
                Liera’s jaw wouldn’t stop shaking.  It felt like it was floating above the rest of her, the only thing that still had any sense of motion.  
                She’d said the same thing the last time he touched her intimately; back when he repaired her arm.  And he said something she’d never forget.  
“I know.”  
                Liera knew a lot of things.  
                She knew she came here on a mission to conduct reconnaissance.  That she was cut off from everyone she’s ever known her entire life.  That what she and Danse were doing was wrong; that he was her acting CO and this put both of them in a compromised position.  She knew that anything between them would end tragically, one way or another.  
                She knew the risks. She _always_ knew the risks.  
                She ignored them when Ryan confessed his feelings.  She ignored them every time she'd step out of a drop ship onto the battlefield beside him.  She ignored them the day she was ready to sacrifice herself to make sure Demeter was destroyed, and how Ryan ruined her plan.  
                The time they had together, though…However brief…  
                It was all worth it.  
“I _know_ that…”  
                And with any luck, this would be, too.  
“…We can’t get _caught._ ”  
                The anchors on his eyes pulled the chains on deck.  He released a short, quick breath, struggling to find words.  He didn’t need to say anything.  The way his palm twitched on her cheek, and became slick with the faintest smell of sweat.  
                He watched her mouth, and his eyes trailed lower, and lower-  
                Liera’s surprise came as a muted shout, muffled by his mouth that locked onto hers.  Her fingers wove through his hair, pulling him closer, pressing her body to his – anything to close the distance between the two wounded souls that longed for each other against all rationalization.  
                Sometimes, it wasn’t about the truth or the risks that came with looking it in the face.  
                Liera’s pride made it difficult to admit, but the truth was that she _found_ her moment of happiness, once before.  And she’d allowed it to be stolen from her.  
                But it was time to steal it back…  
                She hoped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Notes:**  
>  After 200,000+ words, #LastDanse is finally in motion! *Cries* (Hashtag is bad, I know. It's okay.)
> 
> I hope everyone enjoyed this! It was a blast to write.
> 
>  **Behind the Scenes:**  
>  Check out [Chapter 49](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10296845/chapters/33147006) of _"The Archive,"_ for more screenshots and commentary!


	32. Breach of Decorum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Sometimes the truth has difficulty breaching the city walls of our beliefs.”_  
>  -Rachel Hartman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This is purely a sex scene.**

 

                he burning in her chest was stabbing.  
                She forced shallow breaths from him with her tongue, lapping at the roof of his mouth.  She cupped the sides of his face, leaning into him.  His jumpsuit brushed the wings of her collar bones, and the hook above his zipper pushed against her neck.  
                Her eyebrows pinched, and he withdrew after she made a displeased sound.  Her eyes narrowed as she hooked her finger on the latch, pulling his lips back to hers.  He smiled through their clicking teeth, and a muffled laugh trickled up his throat.  
                Liera snuck her hands between them, pulling at his zipper.  Her plan was to stop when the obstruction was removed, but she kept going…Slowly, teasingly, her kisses deep and intense as the woven pins that held the cover over his body separated.  
                Her hand trailed lower, popping off buttons that held a _different_ cover in place…One that was already strained from the rising bulge underneath.  
                Danse broke away from their kiss, using his head to push her jaw aside.  Liera took a fistful of his hair, pressing her cheek to his temple.  
“Some might call this ‘misconduct on operations…’” She let out a dark laugh.  
“To hell with protocol,” His teeth grazed her neck, his lips tickling her, “I’ll write the damn report myself…“  
                Liera gasped in his ear as he bit down; not too hard, but not gentle, either.  The soundless breath earned her a rumble from his depths - a longing groan that signaled loss of control.  
                He shrugged off the shoulders of his jumpsuit.  Liera pulled it down, taking in every bit of him as she peeled it away.  His hand that wasn’t pressed against her back slid its arm out of a sleeve first, and they exchanged possession – never letting her go.  
                She yelped as he grabbed her waist, swinging her around and laying her gently on the bed roll.  He all but pounced on her, and she was quick to embrace him as he did.  She hooked her legs on him, her hands slipping under the white shirt that clung to every muscle carved in his back.  
                Her fingers dipped and rolled until they rose to the sides of his head, the fabric bunching around her hands.  He parted from her only long enough for her to pull the shirt off entirely, tossing it aside.  
                A slight tug came from her chest, and her eyes widened in surprise.  Danse’s face crinkled, and another tug followed.  He couldn’t get her zipper down.  
                Liera groaned in irritation, remembering how annoying the jumpsuit was to put on in the first place.  
“Saul.” She leaned away, her head landing in the soft padding.  
                His eyes switched back and forth between hers, giving her the softest goddamn smile.  He looked so happy it made her sick, and it was _contagious_.  
“Hm?”  
                It was as if she was the world and everything narrowed to _her._   His knuckles brushed across her cheek, his thumb trailing behind…It left a hot streak across her face, already flushed.  
                She wanted him.  
                She needed him.  _Now._  
“Get this _fucking_ thing off me.”  
                His brows jumped in surprise, and a quiet laugh came in a short burst of air.  
“Yes, ma’am.”  
                His fingers curled on either edge of the opening, his bare arms painted orange by the oil lamp flickering behind them.  His muscles flexed as he pulled the gap wider, and she admired the view.  
                There was a tearing noise.  Her suit’s zipper popped from the opposing track.  
                His jaw went slack, and he deflated before sucking in another breath.  His teeth shut hard, the lines around his jaw clenching as his gaze shifted from her breasts to her face.  
                The hard tip rubbing at the gap between her legs drove her into a spiral.  It got worse when he pulled her up, her feet folding under her as she balanced on his lap.  
                Liera giggled, her hands molding around his shoulders.  She looked down at him, moving her arms cooperatively as he stripped her bare and let the jumpsuit dangle.  
                She let out a soft mewl, jumping as a shock simmered through her body.   
                He caught a nipple between his lips, his tongue gliding over the hardening peak.   She draped herself over his arms, folded behind her back, her hands slipping up to the tense mounds lining his neck.  
                One of his hands strayed from his embrace, his fingertips gliding down the spinal plates implanted in her back.  She made the same sound as before- louder, now- and his hand clutched her ass.  He pushed on it, jutting himself forward.   
                Even being out of the field, his movements were precise and sure.  The way he handled her -with care, lust, and love all at once…The commanding presence and sureness he carried as a leader never left him.  
                It made her crazy.  
                But the gentle exploration of their first encounter was fading.  Their kisses were fiercer.  Liera scratched at his back, growing weak just by how _strong_ he was…  
                She growled under her breath, sending her hand down in between his legs. She got her hand underneath the elastic bands of his boxers, shivering after she caught his length.  It was so thick and long and-  
                He grabbed both sides of her face, the spear of his tongue flicking inside her mouth.  His breathing was harder.  He felt warm to the touch.  
                She moved her hand forward and back, amazed- almost nervous- but it made her drip with anticipation when she felt the first bit of precum leak into her palm.  
“Liera-“  
                His voice shuddered, almost begging to be put out of his misery.  
                The admission struck a match, and a fresh fire burned in her stomach.  
                She pushed him on his back, her knees hitting the floor.  She rolled off him, sitting as she removed each boot from her feet.  In somewhat of a rush, he mimicked her.  
                They found each other’s eyes as she laid down next to him, pulling the rest of their clothes off at the same time.  There was a silent agreement that full-body suits weren’t the easiest thing to remove, and neither of them were about to ruin the moment by fumbling through the process.  
                It was that kind of comfort she appreciated about him.  
                It’s what made him a necessity rather than a curiosity.  And the way he laid there, patiently…Without a single shred of clothing covering _anything_ to be curious about…  
                It reminded her how badly of a _necessity_ he was.  
                Liera wrapped a leg over him, and he caught the curve behind her knee.  She sat on top of him, freezing as his erection rubbed against the slick space between her legs.  
                The initial shock faded quickly, because it felt _good._ A pleasured sigh left her as she rocked her hips back and forth in a repetitive motion, bracing every time his swollen tip massaged her clit in passing.  
                The hairs on her arms rose.  Even she hadn’t realized how wet she was, just from _touching_ him…  
                Her thighs squeezed him tighter.  She took his hands in his, planting them over her breasts and melting as he toyed with them…with _her._  
                She closed her eyes at the ceiling for some kind of reprise, her neck rolling as she lost herself.  
“You, are so… _beautiful_.”  
                Danse leaned up, returning her to his lap as her thighs balanced on his.  She crossed her legs, his hips caught in the middle.  The crooks of his elbows curved around her waist, his forearms pressing against her back.  
“And,” She smiled, her own arms folding perfectly along the nape of his neck, “You’re the only one who gets to see.”  
                Their naked chests pressed against each other’s as they kissed; their heartbeats meeting for the first time; their interwoven tongues gliding so _effortlessly_ with one another-  
                It was a moment she could get lost in forever.  Her heart was so fuzzy and light it was just short of alarming. She was clay in his hands, and he, in her’s.  
                She guided him to her entrance, soaked and hot and _desperate_ for release…  
                They shook in each other’s company.  Her walls clamped on him as she lowered herself, her insides shattering into a million pieces as she met the base of him.  
“Saul…”  
                His rough hands squeezed her ass, lifting it and lowering it in unison with her grinding hips.  
                Liera explored every unknown plane of his body she wished to claim.  He watched her intently, breathing in the cleaved breaths that left her shuddering lips.  
                They were lost in time, stuck between two wobbling pairs of eyes that saw each other, and nothing else.  There was no war.  There was no Militia, IMC, Institute, Brotherhood of Steel-  
                There was nothing except _him._  
                Danse brought her down harder, a slight grunt marking his effort.  
                Liera’s brows creased, and her mouth opened wider, gasping as she tightened her embrace.  He did it again, making her feel small as he took control.  
                Her hips slammed into his.  She pushed up with her knees, and he pulled down, hands anchored and kneading. Her arms returned to his neck, because if she let go, she wasn’t sure if her legs would hold.  
                Blood rushed to her head. The wet sounds coming from underneath her became louder.  
“Danse-“  
                She inhaled sharply, cupping the side of his face as a chill ran up her spine.  It rose and rose until it spread like flames to her limbs, all centered at the fingers dancing up her silver plates.  
                The coil in her stomach began to spring.   She started breathing heavier, her eyes closed – held in place by his shapely arms.  And he was gentle as he laid her down, his hand still cradling the back of her head.  
                She was breathless.  He looked at her like no matter where she went, he’d find her.  Like any fear that ripped her apart was null.  There, between the two of them, any hesitation that she’d made the wrong decision was cut.  
                He was everything she needed and so much _more._  
                Danse kissed her, his other arm flush against the floor next to her head.  Her legs wrapped around his waist welcomingly.  
                She jerked as he slid inside her, each bit of muscle contracting around him.  Her back arched as he progressed, her chin pointed at the ceiling when his hips met hers…  
                Her soft pants and sinful whispers acted as a metronome to the rhythm he set.  
                He looked so fragile, like he was still nervous or scared of doing something to harm her.  
                She gave him a grin.  It always, always started with a grin…  
                There was a smile to his lips, then.  It was so innocent and blissful…until her fingers dug into his flanks.  
                She didn’t stop watching him as she pulled him closer, rocking forward while she shoved him deeper – _harder_.  
                That single, forced thrust broke something in him.  His innocence turned dark; _hungry_.  But that hunger was still leashed.  
                So she did it again.  
                His eyes shook, and he shifted his weight, supporting himself on his elbow.  His other hand hooked around her leg, molding it around his side.  
                He moved faster, emptying and filling her – each passing moment leaving her readier than the last.  He hit a spot that lit a flare, sending a signal high above where it was thrown.   
                Her hands slid up his spine as her body jerked, their foreheads almost colliding…  
                He gave _her_ a grin, burying himself in her; waiting… _watching._  
                If her heart was racing before, it was now at a full sprint.  The heat she thought she felt evolved into a pit of fire.  
“Dans-“  
                He retracted and pushed into her in one hard, quick motion.  She hollered, covering her mouth in embarrassment.  His hands traced her arms, hooking his thumbs around her wrists.  He pinned them above her head, his fingers curling into hers – their palms folded over one another.  
                His weight was heavy as his chest flattened her breasts in a comfortable fit.  
                He pushed into her once, and she caught a breath.  Twice, and she let it out. Her legs squeezed against him as she lost count.  
                Their snapping bodies, the smell of sex that filled the room, the sticky mess that stuck to her thighs – it was perfection.   
                She felt something burst in her core.  A spark that popped and crackled as it neared the end of its fuse.  It was an intense feeling- one that felt so good it hurt, but that pain was okay.  The storm that took over, was _okay_.  She wanted to get lost in the chaos that ensued between them.  
“Don’t stop-“  
                The tide rose, and rose, and her heart felt like it was failing.  She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t catch her breath, no matter how hard she tried.  Sweat beaded her skin, some hers; some his.  He wasn’t faring much better.  
                His muscles hardened, and his eyes found hers in a small panic.  Her knees rose higher up his sides as if responding to some kind of silent request.  
                Their bodies tensed against each other in a synchronized dance.  He let her hands go, and they wrapped around him in a flurry.  He held the small of her back with one hand, and the space between her shoulder blades with the other.  Their chins hooked on the back of their necks.  
                In that final moment, their hips rolled with each other, but never parting.  There was a warmth that numbed the aching walls around his pulsing, relaxed cock.  
                They didn’t have words.  They didn’t need any.  
                They were held firmly against each other’s bodies, safe in the arms of a lover…  
                Drenched in the aftermath of their breach of decorum.


	33. The Synthetic Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“All warfare is based on deception.”_  
>  -Sun Tzu, The Art of War

* * *

* * *

                iera swiped her hand, sifting through each holographic document after another.  She’d put her helmet on the desk behind them, and leaned into Danse’s chest.  His back was supported by the desk’s leg, separated by a thin cloth to keep splinters from setting in.  
                She was comfortable in his arms, covered only by his t-shirt she’d commandeered.  
“I still can’t believe you hacked into their entire network in seconds.” He chuckled, the rumble from his depths vibrating her back.  
“It wasn’t much of a _challenge…_ ” She smirked, “Oh, this one looks interesting.”  
                She spread her fingers, enlarging the image.

 

* * *

Welcome to ROBCO Industries (TM) Termlink  
Professor Scara's Eyes Only

**Entry 0035**

Everyone's talking about the giant Brotherhood of Steel airship that arrived in the Commonwealth. I'm not certain why they're here, but I'm sure it has something to do with the Institute. It would be a treat to have a crack at the Brotherhood's robotics technology. Instead, I have to relegate myself to this sorry excuse for a laboratory.

* * *

 

  
                Liera turned her chin, “Did I call her bluff or did I call her bluff?”  
“You’re very good at what you do, Liera.” Danse rolled his eyes, smiling and making her heart fuzzy as his lips pressed against her forehead, “With a mantra like ‘We Remember,’ I’m  surprised how many times you need to be reminded.”  
“I know,” She closed the document and kept scrolling, “It’s almost like I enjoy hearing it.”  
                A title of one tagged file caught her attention, and she pulled up the text.

 

* * *

Welcome to ROBCO Industries (TM) Termlink  
Publick Occurrences: Your Eyes on the Truth.

**Publick Perspectives Archive**

Sleep-Walking the Beat

Dear Publick,  
I got this job. It pays the bills, but lately, it's been making it so I can't sleep at night. Things have been so tense. I'm getting worried that if something doesn't change, I might slip-up and get myself or someone else hurt. Any advice, Publick?  
\- Sleep-Walking the Beat

Dear Beat,  
Sounds like you need to relax more. I know after a hard day solving other people's problems, I like to grab a Nuka-Cola, pull out a stack of comics, and read till I pass out. Give it a try.

* * *

 

                Liera snorted, “Man…Been there, done that _._ ”  
“Somehow, I don’t think your line of work gives you much time for ‘sleep-walking.’”  
“Nowadays, not so much…But back when Grenier and I were with the RIU, we had some pretty boring shifts.”  
“The RIU?”  
“Refugee Integration Unit.  Militia Reserves, military police sort of thing.”  
“Ah,” He looked down at her, “You didn’t mention your ‘job’ back home involved you being a _cop_.”  
“No, I guess I didn’t...What’s that look for?”  
“Just imagining what a Militia police officer’s uniform must look like…”  
                She bit her lip, letting it slip through her teeth as she grinned, “What?  Does _that_ uniform not do it for you?”  
                Liera nodded to her Pilot’s jumpsuit.  
“Hey, I didn’t say that.”  
“Mhm…” She rolled on her side before she straddled his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck, “For what it’s worth, I prefer you without _any_ kind of uniform...”  
                He placed his hands gently at her sides, pulling her in for a kiss.  She loved how he inhaled sharply every time their lips met, and how he forced her to do the same.  
“While I agree,” He swept his fingers over her forehead, tucking her hair behind her ear, “I could stare at you wearing my shirt for _hours._ ”  
                She let out a loose giggle, followed by a yawn.  Her forehead crashed into the spot between his neck and shoulder, and he embraced her in a hug.  
“Pilot,” EV chirped from the helmet, “I have found something you may find interesting.”  
                The two of them jumped, Liera’s neck snapping around.  
“Ugh…” She mumbled, turning over and leaning forward, “What is it?”  
“One moment.  Loading files.”  
                Danse adjusted himself, sitting next to her with his legs crossed, “Did she…She didn’t record us while we…”  
                He rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks tickled with a light flush.  
“No, Saul.  She didn’t record us _having_ _sex_.  She knows how to respect privacy.”  
“Well, uh…That’s,” He cleared his throat, “That’s reassuring.”  
“Presenting documents.” EV interrupted, multiple windows hovering in front of them.  
                Liera clicked the first one, enlarging it so both of them could read.

 

* * *

Welcome to ROBCO Industries (TM) Termlink  
Publick Occurrences: Your Eyes on the Truth.

**Publick Occurrences Complaints Log**

DATE – 2/15

Your paper is just trying to drum up fears about Synths to increase sales. You should be ashamed of yourself.

PUBLISHED RESPONSE: "Thank you for your concern. Our paper makes significant efforts to ensure all our stories are accurate and free from editorializing.

PERSONAL RESPONSE: Thank you for your concern. I hope you get snatched.

* * *

 

                Danse rubbed his chin, “Judging by what the mayor had to say and this complaint…Part of me wonders what she wrote that could be interpreted so negatively.”  
“EV?” Liera asked.  
“Pulling up news article.”  
                The images spun until locking on its target – a lengthy report written in the words of a journalist.

 

* * *

Welcome to ROBCO Industries (TM) Termlink

Publick Occurrences: Your Eyes on the Truth.

 **Article: The Synthetic Truth  
  
** Noodles. We all eat them. We all love them. And Diamond City's Power Noodles has supplied this sustenance for the past fifteen years. From the stilted mechanical cadence of Takahashi's programmed Japanese, to the fragrant steam that wafts from each bowl, to the scalding tang of each delicious mouthful - the ordering and eating of noodles is but one of many shared human experiences. Or is it?

I was struck by this very question as I sat at the counter of Power Noodles last Wednesday night, just after 5:00 pm, enjoying a dinner I had so many times before. That's when I noticed our very own Mayor McDonough sidle up to a stool, and engage in the very same ritual. Right hand extending. Mouth opening. Teeth chewing. Yes, eating noodles. The shared experience of almost every Diamond City resident.

So it must have also seemed to the residents of Diamond City nearly sixty years ago, on an uncharacteristically warm May evening in 2229, as they say around this very same counter. But that was before the days of Takahashi and his noodles, when the bar served not noodles, but ice-cold Nuka Colas, frothy beers, and stiff shots of whiskey. The barman's name was Henry, and that night, he facilitated the shared human experiences of drinking, smoking, talking, and laughing. That is, until tragedy struck.

There aren't many among us who are even old enough to remember that evening - although some of the city's Ghoul residents certainly could have, had they not been forcibly removed, thanks to Mayor McDonough's anti-Ghoul decree of 2282. But there is one person among us who does remember, distinctly, the events of that evening: respected matriarch Eustace Hawthorne, who recounted her story in a Publick Occurrences exclusive interview.

“Oh, I was there all right. Sitting right at the bar, sure as you're sitting in front of me now. Twenty-two years old or so, and just looking to have a good time. I was safe behind the Wall -- we all were -- so what was the harm? And let me tell you, that Mr. Carter made it easy. He came into town earlier that day, said he was from out west somewhere. It didn't really matter. What did matter was his smile, and his laugh, and the way he'd make everyone feel at ease. That night, at the bar, we all just sort of crowded around him. Everyone wanted to exchange a word, or hear about the state of the Commonwealth. And Mr. Carter, he was all too happy to oblige. It as just so wonderful. Until it wasn't.”

Eustace continued her account of that evening, and the moment when things turned sinister, and the truth about Mr. Carter was revealed.

“We'd been drinking, and carrying on, must have been three hours. Mr. Carter had four or five drinks in that time. He seemed a bit drunk, I guess, like the rest of us. Then something just sort of happened. He was smiling, but the smile sort of went from his face, all in an instant. And then his cheek started twitching, kind of funny. And I remember watching him, clear as if it happened just yesterday. He reached inside his coat, took out a revolver, and then 'Blam!' -- He shot Henry, the barman, right in the head. Didn't hesitate, didn't show any emotion -- Mr. Carter killed Henry as casually as if he were paying him for a drink. But his cheek never did stop twitching. Let me tell you, all Hell broke loose after that.”

What Eustace is describing is, of course, is the infamous event known as the ‘Broken Mask,’ when the people of the Commonwealth learned for the first time that the Institute, the shadowy scientific organization responsible for the creation of combat androids, had actually succeeded in creating a model of android so advanced, it could effortlessly infiltrate human society. Unbeknownst to the people of Diamond City, the Institute had somehow evolved their androids into true synthetic humanoids. Synths.

“After he shot Henry, that Mr. Carter shot three or four other people, too. Like I said, all Hell broke loose. The guards came running, they opened fire, and Mr. Carter he kept shooting, and throwing people around left and right. Finally, those guards put him down. Seemed like they had killed a man who had flipped his lid. Gone crazy. And he lay there like a dead crazy man, sure enough. God, it was horrible. But then we saw the plastic and the metal -- this was one of them early Synths, you see -- and we realized it wasn't a man at all. It was then we all knew. The Institute wasn't just 'out there.' The Institute was everywhere now. Among us.”

It was never determined precisely why the synth known as Mr. Carter went on his killing spree. Some suggested he had somehow been remotely controlled by the Institute, who wanted to test his combat effectiveness. Still others felt he had simply malfunctioned (a hypothesis supported by the twitching cheek), and was never meant to kill anyone. But at that time, the ‘why’ hardly seemed important. What mattered was that the humans of the Commonwealth had been truly infiltrated by an organization whose intentions and motives were, and still are, a complete mystery.

Which brings us to noodles. Specifically, the noodles consumed by Mayor McDonough last Wednesday night, in the same spot that Mr. Carter the synth went haywire, and mercilessly killed several people -- after spending hours sharing an experience the people of Diamond City assumed was reserved for members of the human race. They were wrong.

Are we?

* * *

 

                Liera sat there, processing what she’d read.  The Institute and it’s so-called “Synths,” appeared to be much more of an escalated threat than what she’d thought.  It wasn’t Brotherhood paranoia, after all.  
                This was supposed to be a relaxing activity, but Danse had become tense.  She felt him shift next to her; the rigidness in his posture.  
“We have to stop them…” He murmured.  
                She extended her hands on either side of the cluster of files and brought them together.  The stream from her helmet closed, and she sighed.  
“We will.” She tried to smile for him, “They won’t ‘take over humanity.’”  
“I hope you’re right…” His brows pinched, “If the Synths reached the point where they outnumbered mankind...how long would it take for them to decide we were no longer necessary?”  
                Liera frowned, peaking at her helmet from the corner of her eye.  
“If they’re anything like the IMC’s Spectres…Not long.  They replaced the majority of their human troops in a matter of months…”  
“They're an abuse of technology created by the Institute. Abominations meant to ‘improve’ upon humanity.”  He continued his rant on Synths, almost as if he didn’t hear a word she said, “It's unacceptable. They simply can't be allowed to exist.”  
                A cold spike drove itself into her heart, despite her efforts to keep it at bay.  
                She traced her prosthetic arm, metal and glistening. It was a reminder that, if he knew the truth about her own system’s function as a whole, perhaps the night before would have never come to pass.  
“I’m sorry.” His hand slinked its way around her jaw, her hair brushing against the back of his hand, “This isn’t the time or the place…”  
“It’s…” She moved her prosthetic farther away from him, discretely tucking it behind her back, “Am I _that_ different from a Synth?”  
                His face crinkled and folded, and the gentleness she found solace in faded.  
“Of course you are.  How could you even-“  
                His gaze darted to the implants on her head.  The folded arm.  Her knees bent at an angle where his own covered the plates that formed them.  
“I’ve got my own ‘improvements’ to my humanity…”  
                Deep down, she’d believed he’d started to see things differently.  Technology, the freedom of will that came with EV, her _own_ personal devices that gave her an edge…  
“Hey,” He moved his face in front of hers, “Come back to me.”  
                Her eyes lifted to his – those brown pools of understanding, sympathy; the ones that relaxed her no matter what the situation they found themselves in.  
“You are _so_ much more than anything they could aspire to create.  You were _born._   Your cybernetics are a testament of what it means to fight for humanity.”  
“This thing’s hardwired into my brain, Danse.  I’d die without it.  And _it_ wasn’t part of me when I was born.”  
“What are you getting at?”  
                She sighed, turning her face away from him, “What makes me human if all my thoughts, feelings, and actions are dependent on technology?”  
                The question was one she struggled with.  The tension between them rose, even laying there barely clothed and exposed.  
“This.” He pressed his hand on her chest, his palm warm over her heart, “This makes you human.”  
                Her face flushed, and she sucked in a breath as he kissed her.  
“You can’t fabricate human instinct.  The will to keep going.  Keep fighting. The bond between another person…”  
                He was wrong.  
                EV possessed the capabilities he described as platforms for the human condition.  
                But at least he believed in her, rather than harbor some form of secret resentment.  
“This bond is certainly a very _organic_ feeling.” She smiled, cupping her hand around the back of his neck, “If that’s part of what makes me human, I’ll gladly embrace it.”  
“We’ve done plenty of ‘embracing.’”  
“What,” She snuggled against him, “Did I tire you out?”  
“More than a training exercise.”  
                He wrapped his arms around her waist while she laughed, pulling her against his body.  
“ _Sleeping_ is another thing that makes someone human.”  
“Hah,” She leaned over, turning the dial on the oil lamp until it went dark, “If that’s the case, then _both_ of us are Synths.”  
“Not tonight.” His chuckled, “Tonight, I’ll get the best sleep of my life.”

 

…

 

 ** _“The IMC can no longer transport human forces to the Frontier fast enough to defeat us!”_** _Graves shouted over the radio, **“But what they have, is an endless supply of Spectres…and we’re gonna put an end to it!”**  
                A Titan’s deployment case shattered, and a frame fell from the sky.  It landed on a Militia fighter craft, wrangling the plane until it crashed into Hammond’s Corporate building.  
**“We’re going down!  Everyone, bail out, now!  We’re going down!”**  
                Liera and the rest of Alpha Company moved to their new position, Chris tapping away on his wrist computer as he hacked into a terminal.  
“How’re the new prosthetics?”  
                Liera scowled, taking a shot at an IMC Pilot, “This isn’t the time or the place…Focus on what you’re doing, Grenier.”  
                It was only 3 months since Ryan, MacAllan, and countless others died.  
                She wasn’t convinced there would ever _ be _a good time.  
**“Bish, I’d like to open a comm link to a private IMC channel.”** Graves interrupted them.  
**“Uh, why would you do that, Commander?”  
“Why would I do it or why would I tell you about it?”  
                ** Upper management was working out their differences, too.  
**“Um, I’ll take a little of both.”**  
                Graves sighed, **“I’m doing it cause there’s not too many actual humans left on that side.  I’m telling you about it so you don’t get suspicious…”  
“Copy that…Trying to establish an open comm.”**  
                Grenier slammed his wrist computer shut.  
“Got it.  Let’s move.”  
                The rest of them followed as he led the way through the facility, all of them taking out any enemies that tried to stop them along the way.  
**“Can't believe Graves switched sides. He seemed so damned hardcore about the IMC.”** Liam seemed unhappy about the ex-Vice Admiral’s change in faction.  
**“Sometimes it's hard to give up what you know, even if you know it's not right."**   Chris mumbled, **“Ryan stayed with the IMC for a year after I left…But it’s never too late to make the right decision.”**  
                Liera bit her lip.  She wanted to ask them so many times to not bring him up, especially not on the battlefield where she couldn’t afford distractions.  Still, he was their partner, too.  Chris’s mentor at one point, even.  It would’ve been selfish.  
“Copy that…” Liam whispered.  
**“Blisk, this is Graves…Can you hear me?”  
                ** The group grew silent, hunkering down at another hardpoint.  
**“What do you want?”  
                ** Graves took a deep breath, **“I want to end the war.”  
“Yeah?  Then fight harder.  Maybe you will.  Quickest way to end it is to wipe out everyone who stands against you.”  
“We don’t have to be against each other, Blisk.  It could be us against the machines…”  
“Then how we gonna ever know who’s better?”  
“No person is better than another, Blisk.”  
“I disagree.” ** Blisk spat, **“You kill me? You’re better.  I kill you? I’m better.”  
“Blisk, you fight alongside machines, but they believe in nothing.  They have no loyalty.  They’re loyal only to their operator.”  
“You’re gonna lecture me about loyalty?! You change your uniform like you’re changing socks!”  
                ** Graves paused before answering. **  
“In the end…Against faceless machines and people like you, who are ONLY fighting for a paycheck…We**_ **WILL _win.”_**

 

…

 

                Liera awoke with a start, jumping in place and filling her lungs with stale air.  
                Her side was cold.  She was alone on the floor.  Danse was trying to be quiet in the corner while he got himself dressed.  He hadn’t seen her wake up the way she did, and she didn’t want to worry him.  
_“Those dreams are nothing I’m not used to, anyway…”_  
                He pulled a jumpsuit to his waist.  He had scratches on the left side of his hips, and a small cluster of faint bruises on the right.  
                She looked at her hands, comparing her nails on her left to the hard, metal tips of the other.  
                Liera planted an arm behind her to prop herself up.  
“Hope doc doesn’t ask questions about that.”  
                Danse looked at her from over his shoulder before pulling his head through a shirt.  
“About what?”  
                A smile crept up on his lips as he walked to her, holding a hand out.  
                His holotags jingled around his neck.  The zipper to his jumpsuit stopped just above the end of its track.  He was so damn _tall._  
                She took his hand, and he pulled her to her feet.  
“I…May have left a mark.”  
                He smirked, “I can’t wait to see it.”  
                Liera yawned, rubbing her eyes as she padded her way to the pile of bloody and crusty clothes on the couch.  
“And _I_ can’t wait to make more.”  
                She crossed her arms around her body, lifting his shirt off and tossing it at him.  
                He caught it, and his brows perked up as he inspected her form.  
“That’s just…that’s just not fair.”  
                She opened a bag, pulling out a pair of cotton shorts before bending over to step in to them. She curved her back and slid them slowly up her legs, snapping the band around her hips.  
_“That_ wasn’t fair.”  
                The hollow sound of a knock on the door filled the room.  
“Hey, it’s Piper.  Remember me?”  
                Danse groaned, running his hand down his face.  
“Are you kidding me…”  
                Liera pulled her bra down, tucking in each breast before fanning her jumpsuit out.  
“You might want to, you know…” She nodded, “Make yourself decent.”  
                He rolled his eyes before tying his sleeves around his waist, the dangling arms covering any trace of his reaction to her teasing.  
“I saw the Power Armor.  I know you’re in there!” She knocked again.  
“One.  Minute.” Liera growled, “Jesus…”  
                She covered herself in her gory uniform, zipping it up to her neck.  
                Danse opened the door, and Piper all but forced herself in.  
“Excuse me, citizen.” Danse was obviously irritated, “You’re pushing awfully hard against two soldiers you just met.”  
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, scary soldier bad boy stuff.” She shooed him off, “Listen, you guys still working with Blue?”  
“’Blue?’” Liera sat on the couch, pulling up a sock around her foot.  
“Nora Black.  The Sole Survivor of Vault 111.  That one?”  
“She works with _us_.” Danse corrected, “And yes. She’s still around.”  
“Some good news for a change...”  She nodded behind her, “Get your stuff and let’s go.  We need to have a little chat with a friend of mine.”  
                Danse’s brow creased, “You don’t give orders to-“  
“We’d be happy to come along.” Liera gave him the most convincing look she could, and he silently complied.  
“That settles it.” She patted the doorframe before turning around, “I’ll be waiting out front.”  
                Danse looked to her, and she finished lacing her second boot.  
“You said you wanna win the ‘heart and minds of the people,’ right?  We just got our in.  The press.”  
                He pursed his lips, “I’m sure this is just as much about your curiosity than it is about gaining civilian support for the Brotherhood.”  
“Pfft-no.  Me? Curious?” She playfully pushed his chin with her thumb, “Ridiculous.”  
                He watched her with that doughy look he didn’t even _try_ to hide anymore.  
“The sooner we get today over with, the sooner we can go home.” She narrowed her eyes, flipping his holotags and smoothing them out, “… _And_ continue where we left off.”  
                He cleared his throat, a strong breath pushing through his nose.  
“Rodger that.”

…

 

                Piper’s office wasn’t much of an office at all.  There was writing equipment and a couch, bed, table – all the necessary things to make it _look_ like an office…But it was the lowermost level of her home. The bottom floor of a loft.  
                All things considered, it wasn’t he worst looking place Liera had been in since she’d arrived.  
“We’re on an important mission,” Danse started, “If there’s something you want from us, I’d appreciate it if you asked soon.”  
“I want the truth.” Piper turned to him, setting down a stack of papers, “Why is the Brotherhood of Steel in the Commonwealth with a giant airship?”  
                Liera tensed, but Danse answered first.  
“Making the world better is the Brotherhood's primary mission.  We just use less…eccentric methods.  That’s the truth.”  
“Tch, what a load of crap.” She shook her head, “Nothing stays hidden forever. Least, not if I have my say.  So you can tell me now, or I can find out on my own.”  
“Your determination is inspiring. I find that the press often manipulates the truth in order to deliver their agenda.”  
                Liera braced, facepalming at his side.  
_“Why are his people skills so bad?”  
_                 Piper threw her hands up, “I think you’ve got the press confused with your Elder.”  
“Elder Maxson is-“  
“A dangerous man, that's what he is.  That’s the general consensus, at least.  And if you want to convince the Commonwealth otherwise; whether you like it or not, you’re going to have to convince me, first.”  
                Liera interrupted, “And what does _any_ of this have to do with Nora?”  
“We’ll get to that part in a few minutes.  For now, ‘I’d appreciate’ an explanation so I can publish it and calm the populace.”  
                The bantering paused.  Liera eyed up the room, looking at various notes pinned to the wall.  
                Kidnappings, Synths, the Institute…  
“Just how bad are things in Diamond City?”  
                Piper scowled under her breath, pinching the bridge of her nose.  
“A lot worse than anyone is willing to admit…” She walked to her desk, resting her hands on the edges, “You know, the Institute has a lot of enemies. The Minutemen tangled with them once, the Railroad still does.  You folks just might have the muscle to give the Institute a run for their money, but forcing your influence on people with a giant robot and blimp are real quick ways to make a lot of enemies.”  
                Liera could tell Danse was losing his patience, but she saw an opportunity to dig for information.  
“You mentioned the Railroad?”  
“Yeah, what of it?”  
“What do you know about them?”  
                Piper sighed and crossed her arms, turning around and leaning on the desk, “Supposedly, they help runaway Synths escape the Institute. But they're secretive. Ultra-paranoid.”  
“Helping ‘runaway’ Synths…Synths are nothing but technology run amok.” Danse’s fists tightened, “We will destroy every single one of them until the Commonwealth is cleansed of their influence.”  
“Hey, I hate the Institute as much as anyone, but maybe pull back on the bloodlust a little?” Piper snickered.  
                Liera gave him a small frown, and he looked away apologetically.  
“Moot point.  No one knows how to contact them.  Only thing _I_ have is a rumor. A code-phrase.”  
“What’s that?” Liera asked.  
“You think I’m telling a pair of Brotherhood soldiers where to find a headquarters filled with Synth sympathizers?”  
                Danse grunted, “Synths are only good for one thing...the scrap heap.”  
                Piper held her hands out at him, looking at Liera, “See?”  
“Clear this up for me.” Liera rubbed her temples, “How can you not identify a machine from a person?”  
“There's two major kinds of Synths you have to watch out for. The first type of Synth is the real deal. With skin, blood, warm smiles and guilty glances just like a good, old-fashioned human.  Synths. Synthetic _people_. Sent from their hidden labs to do the Institute's dirty work. Sometimes they even replace a person with a Synth double. A little covert agent no one would ever suspect.” Piper paced around the room, her hands moving while she spoke, “The second is an obvious fake. Skin looks like plastic. Skeleton might even be showing.  You see groups of them scouring the Commonwealth, killing people, and scavenging what's left. I reported on University Point a while back. Whole town got cleaned out.  Cold-blooded murder machines.”  
                Danse lost his temper, “You're damn right they're machines! They're machines with the potential for _free_ _will_...and they're a danger to _everyone_.”  
                Liera’s teeth clenched.  Even though they cleared the air on the topic earlier, his persistence on hating Synths just because they weren’t ‘people,’ was grating.  
“Doesn't matter if someone was born or built. A person's a person.” Piper sighed, “And here I thought the Brotherhood might be coming around.  Had a Synth partner of your own.”  
                She nodded to Liera.  
“Oh, wait…I…I’m not-“  
                The door opened, and a…robot…in a tan trench coat walked through.  He wore an old hat, prominent in shape and faded just like the rest of his clothing.  His eyes were glowing yellow – a divide between the black holes in the center and the chrome of his face.  
“Well, well…” Piper gave it a fond smile, “Nicky Valentine walks into my office for a change.”  
                He walked without a hint of mechanical ingenuity to him.  The way his shoulders swayed under his clothing, hell – even the fact that he was _wearing_ clothing…It made him seem so…  
                _Human_.  
                And Danse did _not_ seem happy to see him.  
“What can I say, Piper? You, me, and hard luck all seem to run together like acid rain down an old sewer.”  
                Nick had a voice that lasted the ages; accented with a manner of speech from an older time.  
“You, uh, including your client here in that analogy?”  
“She's my client, Piper. Why don't you learn not to snoop on a woman’s private affairs?”  
                He put his hands in his pockets and turned towards Danse and Liera.  
“Danse.”  
“…Valentine.”  
                Piper seemed just as confused as Liera was, “You two know each other?”  
“Met him when Mrs. Black came by looking for help.”  
“And just like then, I still can’t believe this city gives freedom to this… _thing_.”  
                Nick tipped his hat, “Believe it, bucko.  Now, isn’t there someone else you should be irritating?”  
“ _You’re,_ a Synth?” Liera burst, unable to stay quiet.  
                He seemed a bit surprised and eyed up her implants before going back down to her face, “That's right. All the parts, minus a few red blood cells.”  
“And you don’t work with the Institute?”  
“I got built, I got old, I got tossed. Then I opened up a little agency in Diamond City and turns out, people have plenty of problems to solve.”  
                Danse snorted, and Liera jabbed him in the side.  He gave her a confused look, still angry.  
                But she gave him an angrier look, and that seemed to get him to back off.  
“You finally letting me in on this little case of yours?” Piper looked to Nick.  
“That’s classified information.” Danse cut her off, staring _him_ down, “You’d be better off remembering that.”  
“Nora hired me to help her find her son.  I need Piper’s help doing that.  Part of the reason I asked her to bring you clowns here.  So, if it’s okay with you, I’d like to get back to doing my job.”  
“Serve your function, more like it…”  
“You know, you got some real nerve. You're damn right Synths are programmed! But that doesn't stop us from being _people_.”  
                Liera shut her eyes, turning her head away before opening them at the door.  
“ _No_ machine should have free will.”  
“Why?” Nick huffed, “You jealous you had to turn yours in?”  
“You’re all weapons that need to be deactivated, and nothing more.”  
                Hearing him repeat the same xenophobic bullshit over and over again…  
                Maybe she’d made the wrong choice about how she spent her time with him.  
“From where I’m standing it looks like most of your partner here was built in a lab, too.”  
                Liera froze.  Her shoulders slithered up to her ears, “Don’t go getting me involved in this…”  
“What did you just say?” Danse took a step forward.  
“Those cybernetics aren’t exactly subtle, pal.”  
                Liera jumped between them, her hands pushing back on Danse’s chest while Piper pulled on Nick’s arm.  
“You’re blowing it, here…” Liera growled, keeping her voice low, “Let me take the reins.”  
                His face seemed to shake as his anger peaked, his features ramping down as soon as he looked at her.  All he did was give her a nod.  
                Liera adjusted the strap around her shoulder, “You said Nora hired you?”  
“Yeah…” Nick finished giving Danse a harsh glare before looking back to Liera, “And trust me, that dame knows a lot more than she lets on.”  
“Hmph.  Tell me about it.”  
“You know something we don’t?”  
                Liera shifted her weight to her leg, “You tell me what you know, and I’ll fill in the blanks.”  
“Sure…Could be fun.” He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms.  
                One of his hands was a spikey frame, while the other was more like hers – fully synthetic, but modeled after a human’s.  
“Nora and Codsworth came stumbling through here not too long ago.  Said her baby got snatched by the Institute.”  
“A baby kidnapped by the Institute?” Piper seemed surprised, “Hoo boy...”  
“It’s as bad as it sounds.” Nick turned back to Liera, “Our investigation took us to Fort Hagen looking for a man named Kellogg.”  
“That's the old merc who bought the house in the abandoned West Stands.” Piper interrupted again, “Didn’t have a kid, though…Always in and out before anyone had a chance to talk to him.”  
“…He was more than just a mercenary. He was a professional. Quick, clean, thorough. Had no enemies, because they're all dead.”  
“Was?” Liera asked, “Had?”  
“Was…Had.”  Nick sighed, which was a strange thing to watch, considering he didn’t have lungs, “Codsworth and Nora are better shots than folks give them credit for.”  
“So a murderer and a mercenary gets his brains blown out by an avenging parent.” Piper smirked “It'd be a great ending if we knew how to get to the Institute.”  
“’Gets his brains blown out...’ Huh...His brains.” Nick tapped his chin, “You know, we may not need the man at all.”  
                Liera cocked her head, “Pardon?”  
“Yeeah…You’re talkin’ crazy here, Nick.” Piper put her hands on her hips, “Got a fault in the ole' subroutines?”  
“Let's see...I guess we're going to need a piece of Kellogg's brain. Enough gray matter to bring to Amari and find out if this is going to work...”  
“Jesus, Nick...Gross! Seriously?”  
“I know it's grisly, but what choice do we have? We got no leads. Nothing. That old merc's brain just might have all the secrets we need to know.”  
                Liera grimaced, “Wait, wait, wait…You’re suggesting…What?”  
“There's a little slice of trouble Northeast some ways called Goodneighbor.  That’s where the Memory Den is. A place where you can relive the past moments in your mind as clear as the day they happened.”  
                Liera gulped, “How in the hell does a place like _this_ have technology like _that_?”  
“I’ll let Doctor Amari explain the mind behind the memories in person.  Let’s stay focused.”  
“’Focused…’ Says the Synth that can’t remember how to get into the Institute.” Danse snarled.  
“I skipped that part of the orientation film while they were busy pulling me apart and putting me back together again.”  
“A shame they didn’t just leave you in parts.”  
“If a smart mouth was all it took to solve problems, we would have found a way in by now.”  
                Liera barred Danse with her arm, “Why can’t you just plug yourself into the Memory Den and…Remember?”  
“You'd think they'd cut me loose if I had something on 'em?  Some kind of security setting strips or blocks out those memories. The truth is, people smart enough to build something like me are smart enough to cover their tracks.  And arrogant enough to throw their unwanted trash into the Commonwealth to fend for itself.”  He looked down, “Just another discarded prototype… And it's not just me.  Any Synth that gets trashed, left behind, or escapes the Institute has the same problem. Probably some kind of failsafe.”  
                A Synth.  Walking, talking, right in front of her.  A more advanced machine on that small of a scape than she’s ever seen.  One that had genuine emotions, rationalization skills…everything.  
                One that was just as strong as she was, built to destroy and scrapped when its use had been fulfilled.  She was starting to understand how people like that could be perceived as dangerous.  
                What would the Frontier be like if Pilots were let loose? Where would their place be in the world without a war to fight?  Would they be revered as heroes, or feared as weapons that had fulfilled their use and were left unsupervised?  
“I have questions.” She looked at Nick.  
“You and me both.” Piper sparked up a cigarette, watching her from the glowing lighter in her palm.  
                It gave her a sinister shadow, and the hunger for knowledge in her eyes was highlighted.  
“Why aren’t you talking to Nora about this?  Why bring _us_ here?”  
                Nick turned to Piper, and back to Liera, “What’s your stake in her?”  
“I don’t trust her for shit.”  
“Knight.” Danse barked, “Don’t-“  
                She ignored him, “ _We_ don’t trust her.  We think she’s up to something big.  Something dangerous.”  
“’We,’ eh?” Nick eyed up Danse.  
                Piper took a puff of her cigarette, “And the plot thickens…”  
“Did she tell you anything about herself specifically during the investigation?” Liera asked.  
“That’s a hell of a question.” Nick’s yellow eyes stabbed at her from under his hat, “You got a background in this line of work?”  
“Used to be a cop. Now I’m reconnaissance for the...Brotherhood.”  
“That’s not what I heard.”  
“What did you _hear,_ exactly?”  
“Look, I’m just gonna say it.” Piper cut in, “You’re not from around here.  All that tech is a dead giveaway.”  
“And the Brotherhood isn’t exactly known for embracing new technology with open arms.” Nick huffed, “Guess I shouldn't have expected a hug...”  
“An ‘expected’ lapse in human decision making.” Danse shot.  
“You sure _you're_ not a Synth?” Nick’s eyes narrowed, “Course…I guess you wouldn’t know, would you?”  
                Liera glared at him, unsure if he was just trying to get under Danse’s skin or if he knew something about his abnormal energy readings.  
“Anyway, if you're done being a wise-ass...” Nick dug in his coat.  
                Danse reached for his gun, and Liera grabbed his wrist, hiding the struggle behind his back.  Piper and Nick didn’t notice, which was probably for the best.  
“The story gets even more twisted.” Nick pulled a folder from his coat, slapping it on the table and opening it, “Nora was pretty quick to avoid any questions concerning her husband.  Claims he got shot and killed in the Vault.  I didn’t find squat when I went in there.”  
                He flipped the pages, and put a hand in his pocket, “I've been putting together a file on this one for a while now. There's a pair of holotapes in here worth listening to...including one of Nathan Black’s that I managed to snatch from the Vault Tech’s evidence lock-up before getting swarmed by Ferals.”  
                He put two holotapes on the counter, and stood up straight.  
“I listened to those.  Learned a lot about the IMC and the Militia.  I’m still not sure who started that war, but I know Nora’s a Hammond, and…That family was trouble.  So was Garrison Black and his crew.”  
                Liera was stunned.  This was far from what she was expecting.  
“I read your suit.  You’re with the Militia.” Nick cocked his chin, “Are you the good guys?  Bad guys? Somewhere in between like your new employer?”  
“There’s no ‘in between’ with us, Valentine.” Danse growled.  
“Please…If the Brotherhood had its way, they'd probably eliminate hot plates as soon as one burned them.”  
“We’re the good guys.” Liera interrupted before another argument broke out, “And so is the Brotherhood. We’re going to do our best to prove that to you.”  
“We’ll see about that.” Nick stuffed his hands in his pockets, “I hope I’m right in trusting you, Militia.  Take what I’ve got.  Maybe you’ll have better luck than I did.”  
“I hope so.”  
“Me too.  In the meantime, I’ve got a brain to liberate.  I’ll be seeing you in Goodneighbor tonight…assuming you want to learn how to get into the Institute, that is.”  
                Danse opened his mouth, but Liera answered before he could say anything.  
“We’ll be there.” She gave him a smile.  
                Nick dismissed himself, waving to Piper.  
“Hey, Valentine.” She held her hand out, “Give me a few, would ya?  I’d like to come with you once I wrap things up here.”  
“Fine by me.” He tipped his hat, bidding the rest of them farewell, “Until next time, ladies.”  
                Danse was red in the face by the time Nick exited the building.  
                The three of them stood there in a stare-down before Liera finally decided to gather the evidence on Nathan Black that Nick had collected.  
“One thing before you head out.” Piper jammed her cigarette into an ashtray.  
“What’s that?” Liera asked.  
“I want an interview.  Your life story in print.  I think it’s time Diamond City had a little outside perspective on the Commonwealth…and wherever you’re from.”  
                Liera held the folder to her chest, crossing her arms over it with a chuckle, “Most of my ‘life story,’ is highly classified.”  
“It’s a perspective piece. People in Diamond City need to know you're from a different _world_ than them.”  
“What’s in it for me?”  
“I’ll be your eyes and ears down here on the ground.” Piper grinned, “The Brotherhood needs an ‘in’ source, don’t they?  A liaison, so to speak.”  
“That sounds more than reasonable…What kind of questions are we talking?”  
“I ask you who you are, get your opinion on life out there, and maybe load up on a few tougher ones to keep it interesting.”  
                Liera looked at Danse, and he gave her a shrug.  
“I’ll go get my Power Armor.” He looked defeated, like the encounter with Nick had drained the life from him, “I need you to be ready by the time I come back.”  
                She gave him a weak smile, and he left without another word.  
“Alright…let’s get this over with.”

 

…

 

                Liera watched Danse deal with the mechanic at the end of Diamond City’s main thoroughfare.  
                The interview questions had been fairly simple, even if she was bad at the “question and answer,” game.  
                A young girl stood on a block, waving an article around and shouting cliché sales’ pitches to people passing by.  
“Read all about it!  Are synths replacing people?  Is your neighbor really human? Read all about it!”  
                Piper smirked, nodding her direction, “My kid sister, Nat…Pardon me.”  
                She walked over, inspecting the stack of papers next to her.  
“Hey, kiddo, how are the paper sales?”  
“Well, the presses are getting overloaded. That motor is going to go soon if we don't replace it.”  
“Ah, you've been saying that for weeks, and the old girl still keeps cranking. Stop worrying so much.”  
                Liera smiled meekly at the scene.  It touched her in a way, but why, she wasn’t sure.  Perhaps it was the motherly affection that Piper showed towards her little sister.  
                Jack had to step in and act like a father more than once while Tai was deployed.  Together, they made her the woman she was.  
_“That’s definitely why.”  
_                 A stranger walked up to her, making her jump.  
“Paper puts on quite a show, huh?”  
                She raised a brow, “What do you mean by that?”  
“Well, folks are already plenty scared of the Institute, but that doesn’t stop the paper from talking about them every chance they get.”  
“Uh…huh…”  
“Anyway, don’t let it get to you.  Life is still a hell of a lot safer than out there in the Commonwealth.”  
                Liera eyed him as he departed, just in time for Piper to rejoin her.  
“What did Pastor Clements want?”  
“Don’t know.  Just being friendly, I suppose.”  
“Weird.”  
                The two women stood in silence as Danse began his march back towards Publick Occurrences.  
“Give me something to write about…” Piper whispered, “I really, _really_ want to like you guys.”  
                Liera looked up to her, pushing up a measly, “Thank you.  I’ll try.”  
                But there was something on her mind.  Something that hadn’t gone away since she woke up.  
                Danse had told her time and time again how his views had begun to change.  After being faced with _“The Synthetic Truth,”_ things seemed…different.  
                She remembered how hard it was for Ryan to break free of all the IMC protocols and beliefs when he first switched sides.  How she had to beat it into his head that the Militia was anything but “by the book,” and that’s how they gained their advantage over the IMC:  
                Unorthodox measures.  
**_“Sometimes it's hard to give up what you know, even if you know it's not right.  Ryan stayed with the IMC for a year after I left…But it’s never too late to make the right decision.”_** _  
_ Chris was right.  
                It was possible that Danse was facing the same crisis.  Perhaps he didn’t _believe_ what he said was right.  Perhaps it was just hard for him to give up what he _knew_.  
**_“Blisk, you fight alongside machines, but they believe in nothing.  They have no loyalty.  They’re loyal only to their operator.”  
                _** The Brotherhood trained their soldiers to follow what they thought they knew to be the moral high ground.  And they were sure as hell loyal to each other…But was it loyalty to their cause?  Or just their operator – Elder Maxson?  
                In what way did that make them different from the Synths of the Institute?  
**_“In the end…Against faceless machines and people like you, who are ONLY fighting for a paycheck…We_ WILL _win.”  
_                 **She frowned, eyeing up the Brotherhood of Steel symbol on his Power Armor.  Sure, the Brotherhood had beliefs – and a whole lot of technology to back _up_ those beliefs.  
                But between the Brotherhood and the Institute: Who were the _real_ faceless machines?  
                Who were the ones only fighting for a paycheck?  
“Here he is…alright,” Piper turned to go back into her office, “You two play nice out there.”  
                Danse looked at her, his helmet distorting his voice.  
“Only if it ‘plays nice’ back, citizen.”  
                A faceless machine that, at one point, was blindly loyal to his operator.  And through defiant actions, he’d started to choose what he believed rather than what he knew.  
                Perhaps he just needed more time to give up Maxson’s synthetic truths…  
                Spun from organic lies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Notes:**  
>  Lots of canon dialogue in this setup chapter! My goal was to mend it into Titanfall's lore for a fluid transition for what's to come. Next up: THE CASTLE!
> 
>  **Behind the Scenes:**  
>  Check out [Chapter 50](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10296845/chapters/33949098) of _"The Archive,"_ for more screenshots and commentary!


	34. Storm the Castle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"I came. I saw. I conquered."_  
>  -Julius Caesar

* * *

* * *

                  picked up a Super Mutant by its leg, holding it to her lens.  A conical light shot from the glass orb, scanning the corpse from top to bottom.  She tossed it aside, turning her focus back to the bodies around her.  
                The alley was hardly big enough for her to fit in, off on the outskirts of Diamond City.  She’d waited there throughout the night, and from the looks of it, attracted some unwanted attention.  
“What is she looking for?” Danse walked next to Liera, his Power Armor shining in the clear morning’s sky.  
“Who knows?”  
                EV’s apertures sprang open, and she looked at them on approach.  
“Good morning Pilot Lastimosa and Paladin Danse.”  
                Liera waved, “Morning, EV.  What’re you up to?”  
“I am compiling data from the gathered sample population in an effort to find a cure for the FEV.  Paladin Danse’s friend should not have met the fate he did under the supervision of another IMC project gone awry.”  
                Danse slowed to a halt, “You’re talking about Cutler?”  
“I am.  Perhaps if we find a way to reverse the FEV, other soldiers and civilians alike will may avoid the same hardships.”  
                EV turned back to her project, picking up a mutant dog and putting it through the same procedure.  
“You said ‘sample population.’  Did you bait them here?” Liera stepped over a dead Mutant.  
“No.  I helped the city’s security staff defend the front gates.”  
“Hm...I didn’t hear anything.”  
“It was a short fight.”  
“Hah. I bet...” Liera smirked, “Man, these things are loaded.”  
                She sifted through a Mutant corpse’s belongings.  
“Frag grenades...assault carbines...Fucking _laser_ sights?”  
                Danse sneezed.  
“Bless you.”  
                He cleared his throat, “Oh- uh...Thank you.”  
“Pilot, I have a question regarding human behavior.”  
                Liera braced herself, “Go ahead.”  
“You previously stated that ‘you can’t just ask people if they’re human.’  However, you blatantly asked Nick Valentine if he was a synth. Please clarify conflicting data.”  
                Danse looked at Liera, “Did I miss something?”  
“We, uh...We were discussing how to determine if Synths infiltrated the Brotherhood...”  
“Go on...”  
“And we came to the conclusion that we needed a base template.  A confirmed Synth.”  
“Why didn’t you use Nick?”  
“Because we need the _other_ kind of Synth.”  
“I see...”  
“Getting one to cooperate with the Brotherhood will be the challenge, given their views...”  
                She tried to not let the meeting with Piper and Nick bother her.  To hold strong to the hope that Danse wasn’t as mindless as his Brotherhood training made him out to be.  
“Pilot, awaiting response.”  
                Liera shot her an irritated look, “I asked Nick because he was obviously a robot of some sort, judging by his appearance.  He’s made of metal, even if very human-like.  To ask someone the same question who appears to be _human_ is rude, because it’s less obvious than having metal parts. Therefore, it would be offensive.”  
“You are a human with metal parts.  Is that why Recon Squad Gladius suspected you as a Synth at first contact?”  
                Liera snorted, walking away from Danse, “Why don’t you ask their leader...”  
“Yes, that is why we suspected her.  We are trained to suspect people like her and Nick.  Our training has kept us alive, so far…But so have you, EV.  And so has she.”  
                Danse reached out for her arm, his armored fingers latching to her prosthetic.  
“Liera.”  
                She jerked in place, her helmet twisting to him, “Ow…”  
“Sorry-“  
                He let go, lowering his hands cautiously to her shoulders.  
                The light of her visor lit his suit up as their helmets aimed at each other.  It was comforting putting trust in someone who understood the duty that came with hiding themselves behind a shell designed to carry out a higher calling.  
“I want you to know…I feel like I need to say…”  
                The black eyes of his helmet, angry and battle-forged, were almost softened by the hesitant voice coming from the filter underneath.  
“I think you’re perfect.”  
                She jumped, shocked by the unexpected compliment.  She wrapped her hands around his wrists, almost feeling the warmth of his skin through her gloves and his plating.  
“I’m far from perfect, Danse.”  
“You are for me.”  
                Liera swallowed, eyeing the white Brotherhood icon on his chest plate.  Her thumb rubbed against the white wings that blessed the sword and gears between them.  
“Existential crisis and all?”  
“That’s my favorite part.”  
                Her helmet lifted back to him, and she grunted.  
“What?”  
“ _That’s_ your favorite part?”  
“Hey,” He shrugged, “You can’t blame me for being excited that I get to call a woman who’s dominant hand, knees, and back never get tired – _mine_.”  
“DANSE!”  
“I’m only kidding.” He laughed, cupping his hands around her helmet, “I’m sorry if anything I said…’offended’ you.  Or made you feel like you meant less to me.  I’ve followed a code for so long, and…”  
“You’re scared to know anything different, like it would disrupt everything you’ve ever known to be the truth.”  
                He didn’t say anything.  He just kept staring into the light on her face as if he could see her.  
“Mhm.”  
“Well, I’m glad you broke _one_ rule…”  She smirked, “So…I’m _yours_ , huh?”  
“I was under the assumption this was an exclusive relationship.”  
“You know what they say about assumptions.”  
“…Are you trying to tell me something?”  
“No.  ‘I’m only kidding _,_ ’” She grabbed the chin of his metal helmet, “If I catch you swooping in on anyone else, it’ll be the end of you.”  
                A deep laugh escaped him, “Yes ma’am.”  
                She sighed, and broke away.  
“We’ve got a big fight ahead of us and not a whole lot of time to ourselves.”  She took something from EV’s cockpit, the doors locking in place, “I want to listen to this before the others arrive.”  
“Is that a holotape?”  His head turned, “Can’t be one of Valentine’s...EV had it.  Where’d you get that?”  
“Artyom gave it to me back at the station.”  
“...I guess it’s safe to assume he’s one of Nathan’s agents like the man from Bunker Hill.”  
“Yes...and all his ‘agents,’ sure have a thing for getting uncomfortably close and cryptic.”  
“You didn’t like having Russian-accented sweet nothings ‘rasped’ in your ear?”  
                Liera laughed, “Your accent does well enough for me.”  
“ _You’re_ the one with the accent.”  
“I am not!”  
“Fahkin laseh soights.”  
“...THAT’S NOT HOW I SOUND!”  
“That’s _exactly_ how you sound...and I’m okay with that.”  
“Ugh.”  Liera nodded at EV, “Play Artyom’s holotape…”  
                She shot Danse a glare he couldn’t see.  
“Commencing playback.”

 

********

 

 **“Damage assessment, complete.”** Spyglass’s radio transmission echoed in what sounded like a chamber, **“Flagship _IMS Sentinel_ Damage Report: During the Battle of Angel City, the _Sentinel_ took critical damage from Militia fighter craft.  The aft stabilizer was rendered inoperative.  Vice Admiral, I recommend three days in repairs.”**

 **“There’was a purpose to their sacrifice…”** His words ran together, as if smushed by a fist lodged under his chin – something he did quite often when charting a course.  
  
**“What,”** Blisk huffed, **“To show how desperate they are?”**

 **“They _were_.”** Graves spoke with conviction, **“A few weeks ago, I’d accept that.  But with MacAllan calling the shots, I think he wants to move the _Sentinel_ out of his way. You’ve gotta see the whole _board,_ Blisk.”**

 **“The nearest drydock large enough to house the _Sentinel_ is on Outpost 207.”** Spyglass reported.

**“Spyglass, divert the _Destroyer_ to cover the _Sentinel’s_ patrol routes until the repairs are complete.  Activate all orbital cannons on the deck, and deploy Pilots to the outpost just in case.”**

“Well, that’s our cue.” Nathan sighed, “Stick with me and stay out of my way.”  
“So, the usual.”  
“That’s right.”

 

**\---**

  
                Engines hummed – healthy and clean unlike the Militia’s ships from the Demeter Campaign days.

**“There’s a Militia ship coming into our airspace sir!”**

**“The Militia’s never been desperate enough to attack us here…”** Blisk cracked his knuckles in the microphone, **“So, they want to get rid of the _Sentinel_ that bad, eh?”**

**“Doesn’t matter.  We’re ready for them.  Spyglass, get our Pilots to the outpost.”**

                The jump engines flared, a winding sound of electricity and time-bending technology.  The recording boomed from the exhaust.  
  
**“Jumping in now, Vice Admiral.”**

                Mechanical noises and ventilating systems hissed.  Metal footsteps clanked between hissing stabilizers.  
  
**“Blisk!  Charge the cannons!”** Graves ordered.

                Outpost 207’s female AI echoed in the deployment hatch, the opening door releasing whipping wind in Nathan’s microphone.  
  
**“Danger.  All IMC Personnel – Railgun 35C initialized.”  
  
**                 Shuffling soldiers and blazing jump kits overtook the recording.  And then boots hit the ground.  The men under Nathan’s charge seemed offended by the Militia’s pursuits. **  
**  
"The _Sentinel_ should never have gone to Angel City. And now we're in _this_ bloody mess."  
"Yeah, the Militia's gonna look bad when we crack down on the population as punishment."  
"This is one hell of a risk they're taking, attacking the dry dock.  It's a suicide mission stepping foot on our outpost!"  
"Their ‘suicide’ runs are bound to get lucky sooner or later."  
"Suicide? They're not getting off that easy!"  
  
**“There’s the target!”** Blisk shouted, **“Firing now!”**  
  
                A plasma charge fired, and an explosion boomed overhead.

 **“Sir, that ship- it had no life signs, no shields…”** Blisk seemed worried.

 **“Of _course_ \- it’s a decoy!” **Graves’ revelation came too late.

Shots came from above, rapid in nature and forceful on impact.  Panicked IMC radio chatter followed.

**“The Militia just landed on Outpost 210!”  
“Outpost 197 here, we’re under attack!”**

                Blisk growled, **“Sir, if they control the cannon array, the _Sentinel’s_ got _no_ chance.”**

**“Pilots, this’ll be a battle of Attrition.  Clear the outposts of ALL Militia forces!”**

                A soldier ran, panting as his gun rattled, "A decoy, eh? Sweet move, Militia, but it ain't gonna save ya!"  
"Yeah, if they wanna buy time til their ultimate death, so be it."  
"Why didn't the long-range scanners pick these guys up?"  
"Whoever's working their electronic warfare systems is good.” Nathan snickered, “Fooled all our sensors into seeing just one contact — just the decoy ship…"

 

**\---**

"It's a good thing these cannons aren't targeting us. They're huge!"  
"Bigger is better. The IMC don't mess around!"  
"Hammond's gun design is unstoppable!"  
                Nathan huffed, "The Militia don't think so."  
"What do I care what the Militia think? I lost family at Hammond's Gate, they're dirt as far as I'm concerned!"  
**"Theta Team — guard the east cannons, and don't let the Militia get by you!"**  
"The Militia aren't getting by anyone in this unit!"  
"They made it here, didn't they?” Nathan yelled, the sounds of his gear shifting under his shout, “Quit talking big and step up your game, soldier! Move it!"  
“Step it up?! Tell that to the Spectres!”  
“We don't need the Spectres, we're better than they are!"  
"I heard Spyglass is leading them through some kind of remote control."  
"He's leading us, too." Nathan growled.  
"Under remote control? I bloody well hope not!"

                A firing Hemlok came through the comms channel.  
  
**“They’re inside!  They’re inside Fire Control!  They’re…aagh!”**

An angry Graves followed. **  
  
“Blisk, what the _hell_ is going on down there?! We’re being targeted by our own guns!”  
  
“Vice Admiral Graves, the outpost cannon array!  It’s being bypassed remotely!”**

**“They’re going to use the outpost cannon to destroy the _Sentinel_!  Warp us out of here!”**

**“No time, sir!”  
  
“All hands, brace for impact!”**

                Outpost 207’s AI echoed around them, **“Danger.  All personnel: Clear the cannon platform.”**  
  
“Bastards just hit the _Sentinel!_ ”  
“And they call this place the easiest posting in the service..."  
"Stay focused on this battle right here, right now!” Nathan returned fire to the Militia, reloading while he spoke, “With MacAllan on their side now, who knows when this will all be over?"  
"Fighting at this altitude is brutal without oxygen...can barely breathe!"  
"Trust me,” He panted, “You'll get used to it."  
"Like hell I will. After this op's over, I'm finding a beach!"  
"I love the cold. Keeps you alert."  
"Says the guy paying more attention to the weather than Militia shooting at him!" Nathan scolded, "Push forward to baseline Omega, and set Defensive Pattern six-four-six!"

 **“Sir!”** Blisk called out, **“Hull shielding on the _Sentinel_ is down 50%!”**

**“Damn.  Spyglass! Ground status!”**

**“Pilots have lost control of the outposts, the _Sentinel_ is being targeted.”**

**“ _Sentinel_ crew, brace for second impact!”**

The AI’s voice followed, **“All Outposts personnel, safety regulations have been disabled.  Use caution-“  
**  
                And it was cut short by another blast.

 

**\---**

 

"Did you know Marvins run this outpost? It's technically an unmanned station!"  
"Marvins man this outpost for a reason: to keep us from having to deal with it."  
"Yeah, until the Militia decide to attack.” Nathan huffed, “Then guess who they call in to defend it?"  
"Talk about false economy. They're not replacing me anytime soon."  
"I still prefer them to those Spectres."  
"Marvins, Spectres…any robot pisses me off.  I'm gonna shoot them if they get in my way."  
"That's considered treason, ain't it?"  
"Not if it's an _accident_.” There was a smile to Nathan’s correction, “Then it's just _property_ damage.”

  
**“Blisk, how’re we holding up?”**

**“Shields are at 25%...Sir!  They’re targeting the _Sentinel_ again!”**

**“All hands!  Brace for third impact!”**

                Another cannon fired, a louder collision burning.

 **“We’ve got fires on decks 25 through 29!”** Blisk shouted.

                Spyglass responded, **“Fire control Marvins have been dispatched.”**

                Graves’ growl evolved from a low-throated rumble to a shout, **“Pilots, we’re taking some huge shots up here!  Get focused and CLEAR THE OUTPOSTS!”**  
  
“You heard him! Pick up the pace!” Nathan hollered.  
                The running footsteps of his men behind him shuffled, the clicks of what sounded like empty cartridges hitting the ground.  
"The Militia think they can actually take down a carrier of that size…"  
"They think they can take down the bloody IMC, what's the difference?"  
"I just like pointing out their stupidity."  
"Too right!"  
"I’d save the gloating for later.  I've lived on the _Sentinel_ for five years, and I ain't ever seen her on the defensive like this."  
"That's because MacAllan's running their show, now.” Nathan fired his gun, “He's ex-IMC, and he knows how we operate!”

 **“Our shields are almost gone sir.  We can’t take another shot like that!”** Blisk warned.  
  
**“Pilots, I need your best right now.  You _WILL_ give me a chance to land this ship!”**  
  
“I hate it when he gets angry like that...”  
“I’d be angry too if I was about to lose a carrier ship!”  
"Sir, other than the _Odyssey_ , we've never lost a carrier to the Militia, have we?"  
"We lost the _Odyssey_ because of MacAllan's treason.” Nathan answered, “As far as I know, we've never lost a carrier in an actual battle."  
"What happens if the _Sentinel_ goes down?"  
"They'll probably transfer command to the _Colossus_ , and then call in the Second Fleet to cover for the _Sentinel_.” His breathing was raspy and tired, “Let's just make sure that doesn't happen."

 

**\---  
  
**

                Sounds of Titan battle rattled the microphone.  Chainshots and punching limbs – the battery well under strain…It all sounded too familiar.  
  
**“Vice Admiral, Militia forces have taken the outposts.”** Spyglass was calm in his mechanical nature.

 **“Danger, Danger-“** The base’s AI warned under blaring sirens, their rotating sound menacing and gut-wrenching.

 **“ALL HANDS, GET TO THE LIFEBOATS!  GO!”** Graves yelled, **“I REPEAT, DEPLOY ALL LIFEBOATS!”**

                A shattering, fiery explosion rendered the recording to static.  Sounds of thunder and falling debris muted them.

“THETA-6, GET TO THE EVAC!” Nathan yelled.

                His Titan’s warning came in chirps, “Critical damage sustained.”

“The _Sentinel_ is down.  Move, MOVE!”

 **“Sir!”** Blisk shouted over the channel, **“Are you there? Sir!  Do you read me?!”**

                Nathan’s cockpit whined as it opened, a jumpship’s engines blazing nearby.

**“Copy that…I’m clear…”**

**“Vice Admiral Graves, the _Sentinel_ is lost.”**

**“Spyglass, direct Command personnel to _IMC Colossus._ Raise her designation to Flagship of the fleet…”**

                The defeat in his voice reflected the reality of Outpost 207.  Even Spyglass sounded disappointed.

**“Yes, sir…”**

**“Chart a course for installation- Designate: ‘Boneyard.’”**

**“‘Boneyard’ location is classified, sir.”**

**“Override at my authorization.  MacAllan’s man Barker knows the way**.”  His vigor returned, and his determination was apparent, **“We’re gonna _beat_ them there…”**

\---

 

**[Playing attached file]**

  
Graves barely got off the _Odyssey_ before it blew.  I’d say you should’ve given me a heads up, but…

“History is a vast early warning system,” as they say.

You ever feel bad for what we’re doing?  Compared to us, she’s just a kid…Hell, we’ll be 80 by the time we’re ready to throw in the towel.

I’ve been thinking about going back home.  Living on Earth, in the Institute.  My father and I smoothed things over…Still, I’m not sure.

See, he’s not a bad man.  He’s learned from his mistakes.

But me?

I’ve been lying to the IMC about who I am for so long, I’ve forgotten who the real Nathan Black is.

Maybe I’m just Blacklist, now.

And before you ask – No, I didn’t have anything to do with Jack’s callsign being “Blackjack.”

Fate has a sick sense of humor, doesn’t it?

 

********

  
                Danse felt the hairs on his arms standing straight at the sounds he’d heard from the holotape.  
“Sounds like it was a rough battle.”  
                Liera had her hands on her hips, looking at the ground.  
“The assault on the _Sentinel_ was our first major win against the IMC during the Frontier War...All thanks to MacAllan.”  She shook her head, “But this…How does the battle on Outpost 207 have anything to do with what’s going on now?”  
                Danse licked his lips, swallowing nervously, “There’s only one ship in the sky, here in the Commonwealth.”  
                Her neck snapped towards him, “You think someone’s planning to shoot down the _Prydwen?”  
_ “I think it’s possible someone might _try_ …Not that they _could._ ”  
“Watch yourself.” She snickered, “That’s what the IMC said about the Militia, and look what happened.”  
“You’re defending our possible assailants?”  
“No, I’m only saying we shouldn’t disregard the possibility that someone, somewhere, might be able to shoot Her out of the sky.”  She put her knuckles under her chin, “But who…”  
“And who was Nathan talking about in his personal log?”  
                Liera looked back to him, “Hm?”  
“He asked MacAllan if he ever felt ‘bad about what they were doing.’ And said, ‘Compared to us, she’s just a kid.’”  
“Right, _that_ …Who knows…”  She sighed, “I’m sure we’ll get our answers later.  For now, we need to focus on keeping the _Prydwen_ safe.  That means finding our potential threat before they find _us_.”  
“Pilot, the Minutemen and Spetsnaz are on approach.”  
                Danse and Liera looked behind them.  
                An army marched; small in size, wielding peculiar weapons.  
                Preston with a sword on his belt, silver and slender.  Alexsandr with another, red and bulky.  Artyom’s blade was black, jagged, and seemingly impractical in design.  Cait’s weapon was something resemblant of a Deathclaw’s hand caging her arm.  
                There was another woman with them.  
                Short, slender, and had barely anything under her skin but bone. Her hair cut off just above a pair of blue eyes.  Her neck was wrapped in a plaid scarf.  Her white shirt was ragged and stained with faded, pink blood stains.  Her navy cargo pants were worn with their pockets filled to the brim with equipment.  She had a bag crossing her chest, marked with a red cross. Her hands were wrapped with aged tape.  
                And her right arm housed something Danse had only seen once in his life – a newly refurbished Power Fist.  An industrial-yellow gauntlet, armed with a pneumatic battering ram that delivered the full force of a demolition crew.  
“Morning.” Preston tipped his hat, “Sorry to keep you folks waiting.”  
“The technology to make this. Incredible.” The short-haired woman ran towards them, “May I-“  
“Hold it right there, citizen.” Danse held an arm out, stopping her in her tracks, “Identify yourself.”  
“Oh, it is Monsieur Danse. Monsieur Garvey told me much about you.”  She held her hand out, “I am a Contagions Vulnerability-“  
“Her name’s Curie.” Cait interrupted, “Don’t let her ramble on and tell ya otherwise.”  
“Ah, yes.” Curie fell into a curtsey, “The greatest scientific minds of history, the Einsteins and the Curies, my namesake, had something beyond raw data analysis capabilities.  My purpose is to study disease, virus, and other contagions and either prevent or curb their ravages.”  
“Curie,” EV’s hub blinked along with her voice, “Requesting assistance to form hypothesis on known FEV virus.”  
                Curie’s eyes widened, and she took a step forward, “It speaks…Superb!”  
                She shook her head as if gathering her thoughts, “Why yes, my metal friend – I’d be happy to assist.”  
“Later.” Cait huffed, “Once you get started, there’s no tellin’ when you’ll stop.  Better keep your thinkin’ to yerself in a firefight, lass.”  
“No need to worry, Mademoiselle Cait. My offensive capabilities are quite formidable.  Or have you forgotten our time together in Vault 81?”  
“Don’t go startin’ that shite again.  You were…different.”  
                Liera crossed her arms and nodded at EV, “Go ahead.  EV loves long chats.”  
                Curie looked to her in surprise, “Why…Thank you…Mademoiselle…?”  
“Lastimosa.”  
“It is a pleasure.”  
                Curie’s accent was dainty and smooth; less sharp than Liera’s, harder to understand than Artyom’s or Alexsander’s, and more refined than Cait’s.  
_“An army within America, with only two Americans…”_  
                It wasn’t a bad thing, just a _curious_ thing.  
                Almost as curious as Liera’s eagerness to get Curie close to her Titan.

 

…

 

                Curie reminded her of Sage – all science and protocol with a dash of muted threat, hiding behind a welcoming face and a calming manner of speech.  
                Unlike Sage, though, she appeared to be far from human.  
                The closer she could get Curie to EV, the sooner she hoped to have her template.  
                Liera shifted her attention at the group.  
                Alexsandr gripped a large handle strapped to his back, shrugging off the leather sash around his chest.  He brought a weapon to his front, one that had only existed in history books and rough sketches in the Frontier.  
“For you, Tin Man.” He tossed it at Danse, who caught the handle and leaned back to keep his face away from the sharp, double-bladed head.  
“Jesus…” He scolded, “Is it customary to throw battle-axes at one another in the Metro?”  
“No.  Just on the surface, if you would consult history.” Artyom snickered, “The enemies we face do not respond well to bullets or lasers.  It is only by brute force and close quarters will we take back the Castle.”  
“You have your suit of shining armor.  You have your axe.” Alexsandr spit to the side, “You are only missing noble steed. Only then will you be true Paladin.”  
                The Russian men laughed, Cait and Preston joining them.  Liera didn’t understand the reference, but Danse was clearly _not_ amused.  
                She eyed the super sledge hanging along her side, it’s head snug against her hip with the handle secured by her belt.  
“What exactly are we going up against, then?”  
                Preston smiled, the rim of his hat casting a shadow over half of his face.  
“You’ll see.”

 

…

 

                After 4 hours of listening to Curie and EV bounce ideas off each other, Liera had long-since regretted her decision to let her interact with the Titan.  
“The ravages of the FEV has demonstrable physiological and psychological ramifications.” Curie explained, “They maintain brain functions and motor control, even afterwards…What changes the Super Mutants, if it is not contagious?”  
“Perhaps it is contagious in a different manner.  If the FEV virus would mutate and become airborne, then all the surviving humans would be at risk.”  
“That leaves the question how the Super Mutants maintain their population.”  
“Do they not reproduce as humans do?” EV asked.  
“I believe Super Mutants must be sterile. Otherwise, surely, they would be found in even greater numbers.”  
“A sound theory.”  
                Curie sighed, almost reflectively, “If I found a peaceful Super Mutant, I would have many questions about their condition. Their pain tolerances. Do they get illnesses. Longevity. So many questions.”  
“A peaceful Super Mutant?” Danse scoffed, “There exists no such thing.”  
“And if it did,” Preston added, “He’d be the first one to put a laser shot through its head.”  
                Liera snorted under her breath, “With good reason…”  
                Preston led them to the start of a land-bridge, winding its way through the ocean water that shimmered from the clear, morning sun.  The tips of each wave sparkled like gemstones floating amongst moss and aquatic plants, some of them topped with orange and pink petals.  A rusted oil tanker hung on the balance, topping a slab of rock.  On the other side, a half-sunken ship remained docked at port.  
                At the end of the path…  
“There it is. Pretty impressive, huh? Its real name is Fort Independence, but the Minutemen always just called it the Castle.” Preston seemed proud at their arrival, “Now you can see why I wanted to take it back.”  
                A tall radio tower jutted from the middle, the view of the lower half cut off by walls of cement blocks.  The right side of the entrance was caved in, a mountain of rubble leading to the top.  Two wooden doors remained open, marked by a Minuteman thunderbolt symbol and stars to the left.  
“What are those things up there?”  
                Old weaponry remained at each point of the perimeter, the flat battlements shaped like the edges of her throwing star.  
“They used to be mortars.  Now, they’re just rusted relics.”  
“…Mortars, you say?”  
“Yes.”  
                Her brows pinched, but she kept moving with the rest of them.  
“Does the Militia not have those?”  
“They’re a little more high-tech, but yeah.” She answered flatly, “What’s the range on ‘em?”  
“Couldn’t tell you.  Never seen them in action.”  
                She grunted, not believing him.  
“For 600 years old, everything’s in pretty good shape.” Danse admitted.  
“That's right. They don't make ‘em like they used to…Our primary objective is to clear the courtyard. That's where we should see the most opposition.”  
“Care to tell me what this ‘opposition’ is, yet?”  
“Mirelurks.  Crab…things. They can deal massive damage and can absorb a great deal in return thanks to their shells.  Aim for the face.”  
“…We’re fighting crabs?” Liera shifted her weight on her other leg, “Seriously?”  
“Oui.” Curie answered, “We must defeat these... Mirelurks. For science.”  
                Cait rolled her eyes, “Mirelurks smell disgustin'. When we're done fightin' them I’ll smell them on me clothes for days.”  
“Mirelurks will be a pleasure to kill...” Danse twirled the axe in his hand, “Another mutated creature thanks to man tampering with nature.”  
“I hypothesize that the initial cause of many animal mutations was mankind's research. Not just them.” Curie noted.  
“If you are all done with your quaint conversation…” Artyom interjected, “Perhaps it is time to come up with a strategy.”  
“Da.” Alexsandr rolled his shoulders, “What is the plan?”  
“…Well,” Preston started, “The wall on this side is the main gate, but if we circle around north, the walls are most exposed.”  
“Why don’t we hit them from both sides?” Liera asked.  
“A good, tactical choice.” Danse nodded, “Exploiting a flanking position is a classic Brotherhood maneuver.”  
“This sounds clever, yes?” Curie looked to Preston.  
“It’s decided, then.  We'll split up, and Lastimosa can join whichever side she thinks needs the extra support.”  
“Sounds like a good plan.” Cait yawned, “Let's get it done…”  
“Minutemen, on me.  Spetsnaz, push with Danse in the front gate.”  
“How will we know when to push?” Alexsandr scratched his side.  
“I’ll give the signal.” Liera unholstered her super sledge.  
“Pilot,” EV looked down at her, “Previously stated warnings and parameters indicate that excessive Titan ammunition use may cause damage to the Castle’s structural integrity.  It would be a waste to use armor-piercing rounds on ‘crabs.’  Requesting permission to activate Core 7.”  
                Liera eyed up the rest of them, all looking at her in confusion.  
“Well, if three of _them_ are using a sword, I don’t see why you shouldn’t.”  
“Affirmative.  Initializing Sword Core.”  
                The black hilt ejected from the space between EV’s shoulders.  She reached behind her, and unsheathed the Broadsword from her back.  A metal plate slid where the blade previously served as a barrier to her battery well.  Her fist cast a shadow over them as it lowered, the rectangle stemming from her palm.  
“Okay, so she has a sword…” Preston turned his chin, “But isn’t it…kind of small?  Shouldn’t it have a sharper-“  
                The Broadsword unfolded, the pointed tip extending towards the Castle.  An electronic sizzle ramped up the length it, and a latch locked on both sides of the seam.  Electricity danced off the metal, only to go mute as the hilt’s end glowed blue.  
“Sword Core: Online.”  
                Liera looked back to the scared General.  
“Any other questions?”

 

…

 

                Liera’s cloak hid her as the crab-beasts’ tiny, pointed legs skittered around the inner perimeter.  She hadn’t realized how close they were to the _Prydwen_ before she made it to the top of the Castle’s wall.  It floated over the airport; only one peninsula away from the desired Minutemen stronghold.  
                She crouched behind one of the mortars, glaring at it from the side.  
_“Definitely within striking distance…Just like…Like the turrets and the Sentinel-“  
_                 Realization hit her just in time for her cloak to fade.  
                A Mirelurk spotted her, hissing as it’s claws pinched at it’s sides.  
                She fired a single shot, swiftly putting her Wingman back in its holster, signaling the strike teams.  
_“Crab freaks first.  Preston, later.”_

…

Everything was riding on their victory.  
                Danse tried not to let his nerves get the best of him as he breached the Castle doors alongside Artyom and Alexsandr.  On the other side of the Mirelurk-infested courtyard, the Minutemen charged through the gap in the wall.  
“Take out the eggs!” Preston ordered.  
                Cait threw him a bottle with a rag hanging from its spout.  
“KHA!” Alexsandr cackled, “Another Russian innovation!”  
                The cloth caught fire, and Preston tossed it into a cluster of eggs in a corner.  
“Supplied by you, no doubt.”  
“You are not wrong, Tin Man.”  
“I question the sentiments behind your love of fire…”  
                Alexsandr drew his sword.  There was a handle along the hilt, and his palm squeezed it.  Small tubes along the end let out narrow plumes of gas, and with a flick of his thumb, the blade was ignited.  
“I would not question things you do not want answer to.”  
                He and Artyom nodded to each other, and the three of them ran into battle.

 

…

                Alexsandr was bulky in his movements, swinging with a blazing, sharpened line of steel that cut through the Mirelurk’s belly and left a burnt smell in his wake.  He never stayed too far away from the crab-like creatures that stood as tall as him, not giving them a chance to hunker down and hide under their shells.  He would let the creatures clamp their pincers on his hardened armor, and use the distraction to cut them off.  Steaming, green slime strung along his plates – slung through the air with a singe.  
                Artyom circled a crab along the water, pacing like a patient hunter.  His jagged blade was mysterious – in that it looked like a useless replica.  But its strange design proved useful; for both ends were sharpened, and each curve in the black metal served as a form of his _own_ claw…One he dug into each plated joint of the Mirelurk until it’s legs were inoperable and its claws were severed.  
                Cait’s Deathclaw gauntlet, for lack of a proper title, proved effective as well. The manmade weapon, forged out of the product of natural selection and radioactive evolution…The thick, boney claws cut through the crabs’ softs spots with ease.  
“Blowin' away a bunch of mirelurks is more fun than I thought!”  
                She had a certain look of bloodlust to her; like she enjoyed putting herself in danger by barely missing the limb-threating snips that came from the Mirelurks…  
                Then there was Curie.  
                The sweet doctor-scientist with the melodic voice who had the bulkiest contraption on her arm. Watching someone use a _very_ primitive form of her own cybernetic arm was interesting, to say the least.  The only exception was that Curie’s weapon extended and shattered the faces of each Mirelurk on impact.  
“Mirelurks prove no match to humanity working in concert!”  
                She was calculated in her attack – not going for maiming, to cut, or tearing off limbs…When she punched, it was to kill.  Point-blank between the eyes with robotic accuracy.  
_“Probably because she’s a Synth…I think.”  
_                 She evacuated the theory from her mind, and kept studying the fighters.  
                It shouldn’t have surprised her that Preston was skilled with a sword.  He looked like the kind of man that would be.  His sword looked like something out of the Museum of Freedom; old in age, but practical.  The way he danced with it; taking calculated steps back, lunging forward, spinning and cutting – there was something to be said for simplicity.  Still, the way he carved bleeding masterpieces into the Mirelurks was far from simple.  
                And Danse…  
                He’d made his way up to the battlements, taking his axe to the Mirelurks like a maniac. His Power Armor provided ample protection, and he was perhaps the only person out of the group that was larger than the Mirelurks, save for EV.  He’d take on three – _four_ at a time, using each dead corpse as a shield to block himself from being pinched as his axe came down on the creatures.  _  
_                 With his enemies laid to rest, he rose from a kneeling position in dramatic fashion.  He dislodged his axe from a Mirelurk, and looked to the side, staring at the _Prydwen_ hovering like the Commonwealth’s own _Sentinel._   His focus shifted to the mortar behind him, aiming towards the floating castle.  
                It seemed he pieced things together, too.  
                Liera pushed herself to her knees, twisting the handle in her hand.  
“Combat intelligence acquired.  We’ve got the data we need.” She turned to EV who walked through a gap in the wall, “You ready to storm the castle?”  
                EV spun her Broadsword, scanning the courtyard.  
“Ready when you are, Pilot.”

 

…

 

                Danse’s heart pounded.  Sweat beaded his forehead, and his steamy breath fogged the inside of his helmet.  Each push from his lungs muffled his ears, the sound amplified by his filter struggling to keep up.  
                The mortars.  The _Prydwen_.  The _IMS Sentinel._   The cannons.  
                He didn’t know what an IMC outpost looked like; _or_ their weaponry…But the parallel – the _timing_ , was undeniable.  
                Maybe it wasn’t Preston who was planning to use them against the _Prydwen._   Maybe it was someone _else_ who plotted to conquer the Castle and seize their artillery.  The Minutemen lost it once, after all.  
                Maybe this was paranoia talking, and there was no threat to worry about.  
                Maybe he needed to get back in the fight, and stop taking a nap above the courtyard.  
**“DANSE WATCH OUT** -“ Liera shouted.  
                He turned just in time to throw his chest to the ground, a flying Mirelurk passing over him.  
“What in the-“  
**“EV! BATTER UP!”  
**                 EV took a step back, gripping her sword’s hilt with both hands.  The dull edge of the blade rested on her shoulders, similar to the statue’s stance in front of Diamond City.  
_“What are they DOING?”_

 

…

 

                Liera swung her hammer, it’s head lodging itself in the shattered-carapace-with-legs.  She took a step forward, putting her body in full swing.  
“EV!” She brought her arms forward, the sledge’s rocket pushing them harder, “BATTER UP!”  
                As the motion peaked, her hands held the sledgehammer in place.  The Mirelurk’s corpse flew towards it’s mark in a magnificent display of terrorized shrills and squeaks.  
                EV’s lens narrowed.  She swiped with her sword, cutting the creature in half.  
                A piece of shell hit her in the face, and she backstepped.  
“Op-“ Liera tensed, holding her hand up to her mouth to cover the giggle behind her helmet, “Oops.”  
                EV’s hub opened, and she looked to Liera confusedly.  
“What?”  
“Sorry about that.”  
                Her blue light was cut in three as EV put her angry face back on, stomping down on a Mirelurk that tried to climb her leg.  She rubbed it out like a cigarette before picking another up in her hand.  
                Data appeared on Liera’s HUD from a scan as EV dissected the creature for biological information.  And after she was done, a loud pop boomed in the microphone from when she squeezed her fist closed.  
                A smaller Mirelurk charged Liera, bringing her attention back to the courtyard and away from the comical relief that was EV killing crabs.  
                With little effort, she wallran to the left, double-jumping and putting herself behind the creature.  It was cornered, and barely had time to turn around before Liera’s cybernetics brought down the Super Sledge with multiplied force.  
                The sound was like when Jack used to chew on ice cubes.  Grinding at first, followed by a loud _crack_.  
                The Mirelurk’s shell exploded.  Pieces of it flew everywhere, it’s blood spraying in all directions.  It covered her visor, and the smell leaked through her filters.  
“For fuck’s sake, ughhh-“  
                The crab without a cover screeched.  It was a high-pitched, painful cry that made her feel horrible for needing to kill it.  She pulled her Wingman from the hostler on her leg, and landed a bullet between its eyes.  
“Fuck, man…Cait wasn’t lying.” Liera used the back of her hand to wipe her visor, her gun’s handle clanking against the hardlight, “These things smell _bad…_ ”  
                The Castle trembled.  
                She couldn’t see past the walls, but there was something in the water.  The disturbance that came like a bomb pushing up waves wasn’t like the rest of the Mirelurks that crawled from the ocean to protect their nests.  
                The creatures began to retreat back to the beach, some even popping out of the ground to follow their kin.  The ones that tried to burrow were killed before they could by the members of the small army fighting to reclaim taken territory.  
                A bellowing, echo of a growl spiked her blood pressure.  
“What the hell was that?” Preston shouted, turning towards the water.  
                A radiated Mirelurk sprang from the dirt, forming a hole behind him.  
“General!” Artyom sprinted, his shoulder aimed.  
                It collided with Preston, knocking him off his feet.  
                Artyom’s body went limp, and his palms caught the rim of the Mirelurk.  Half of it’s pincer was lodged in his leg, the other squeezing against his thigh.  The other pulled back, stabbing him in the stomach.  
“SUKA BLYAT!” Alexsandr cut the claws off, charging the rest of it away from his brother.  
                Liera smashed the remaining Mirelurk with her hammer before running to their aid.  
                Alexsandr caught Artyom in his left arm, the flaming sword still sizzling in his right, “Take him, little robot!”  
                She looped her hammer in her belt, pressing her back to Artyom’s chest.  
“Hold on, Artyom…This might hurt.”  
                She reached behind her, and Alexsandr lifted his brother’s legs.  He screamed in pain as Liera held him secured to her back.  She ran across the courtyard, lowering him against a wall.  
                His breathing was weak.  His visor kept fogging over.  
                She lifted his face guard to his forehead, and pulled his ski mask down.  
“I’ll never hear the end of this,” He winced, clutching his stomach, “He’ll never...”  
“Artyom, stay with me.”  Liera pulled her knife from her vest and began cutting away at the straps holding in place.  
_“Those things are a lot stronger than I thought…”  
_                 She unfolded his Kevlar, plopping it at her right.  A pair of boots landed next to her, the legs above them lined in orange.  Danse crouched, aiming his laser rifle.  
                Preston arrived at her left, sheathing his sword and switching to his musket.  
“We won’t be able to kill them, but we can burn the shit out of them and keep them away!” He yelled.  
“Rodger that!” Danse fired.  
“Give the others cover fire!  We’re regrouping!”  
                Liera kept working on Artyom, pulling her Stim needle from her belt.  She clicked the rotation mechanism, spinning until she found a full dose.  
_“Last one…”  
_                 She studied it, then the dying man in front of her.  
                Curie slid in next to them, dropping her weapon and digging in her bag with practiced expertise.  
“Shallow wound, no organs damaged, losing a lot of blood-“ She snapped a pair of latex gloves on, putting a stethoscope to her ears and the end to his chest, “Rapid heartbeat…hypovolemic shock.  Artyom, we’re going to lay you down, now.  Is that okay?”  
                His lips were blue, and he was sweating profusely.  They laid him on his back, and he seemed too tired to yell.  
“Stinkin’ Mirelurks…”  
                Cait joined them, her Deathclaw gauntlet dripping in blood as she raised her fists to prepare for a potential ambush.  
“How is he, doctor?” Alexsandr asked over his shoulder, standing in front of them and taking point with his fiery weapon.  
“He will be good as new.”  She pulled a large needle from her bag, “Administering Rad-X.”  
                Liera handed her the Pilot Stim pack, “Give him half of this dose if you run into trouble.”  
                Curie removed a bud of her stethoscope, “What is this compound?”  
“A life-saver,” Danse answered for her, shoving a new cell pack in his rifle, “We don’t have…time…to…”  
                Sweat and dirt lined his cheeks, brimming at the edge of his hood. His mouth hung open.  His eyes widened.   
                Liera squinted, “Danse?”  
“Pilot, recommend you embark immediately.”  
                The growl from before came back twofold, so loud that the microphone on her helmet came as white noise.  
                She stood up.  Turned around…  
                And was greeted by a Mirelurk the size of EV.  
“It’s the Queen!” Preston shouted, shooting at it pointlessly, “GET INSIDE!”  
“We cannot move him in this state,” Curie’s voice shook, “And I will not leave a patient to _die._ ”  
“THE REST OF YOU - GO!” Alexsandr shooed them off, “I will stay with Artyom and Curie!”  
                Preston and Danse looked at each other.  
“Are we going to let a couple of Russians outshine us in our own country?”  
                Danse smirked, “Not a chance.”  
“Christ on a stick…” Cait scolded, “And just what in the crazy shite are we supposed to do against that thing?”  
“Nothing.” Liera unhooked her Super Sledge.  
                She didn’t have a plan, and she didn’t need one.  
                Failure wasn’t an option.  
“This one’s ours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Behind the Scenes:**  
>  Check out [Chapter 51](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10296845/chapters/34156518) of _"The Archive,"_ for more screenshots and commentary!


	35. Become One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“To erase the line between man and machine is to obscure the line between men and Gods._  
>  _That is the true meaning of deus ex machina..._  
>  _'God from the machine.'"_  
>  -Alicia Vikander

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heavily influenced by _"Inferno,"_ by Dante Alighieri.
> 
> **"That we are one in Hell, as we were above."**

* * *

* * *

                 ne can learn a lot about themselves, staring into the eyes of Death.  
                How quick tremors force its pupils to retreat, expanding its victims’ borders in return…An unrivaled study of Life’s reflection.  
                Liera had seen her own, once.  
                She’d studied a wounded Pilot pulling at cords snug around her neck, dangling from a shattered cockpit as fire rained.  She’d smelled gas and radiation emanating from the fuel rigs, clogging her lungs. She’d felt the heat from overloaded core reactors, forcing sweat into her wounds.  
                Now, Death wore a different face than it had on Demeter…  
                But so did that Pilot.  
“EV,” Liera snapped into action, hitting her cloak, “Moving to vertical flank – cover me!”  
                The Mirelurk Queen shot bombs of acid from her clicking mandibles, littering the courtyard with small explosions.  The simulated mine field brought back other memories; a series of reflections that came with being First to Fall…  
                Because if a battle was severe enough to warrant the involvement of the Marauder Corps., the ones tasked with punching through the enemy’s defenses; with the responsibility to pave the way for the rest of the Militia to flee or fight, even if it meant bringing peace and order by force…  
                It meant Life hung in the balance.  
                And it was their _duty_ to make Death blink first.  
                They’d be the ones to dodge danger by inches, running ahead to protect the pack, embracing the thrill of the hunt.  
                She shielded her face as a geyser of dirt came spraying down, shooting her Grapple at an interior wall.  Her helmet was trained on the Queen as she wallran, the infrared diagram of the gargantuan creature bouncing with each pounding footstep.  
                EV drew its attention.  She grabbed the edge of its shell, yanking it to face her.  The Mirelurk retaliated with an extended claw, ready to clamp down.  EV pushed the sharp end of her blade into the gap, but the Mirelurk caught it.  
                She held the dull end of her Broadsword; the two locked in a stalemate.  The Queen’s pointed feet slid, leaving claw-like imprints on the ground.  
“Moving in position!”  
                Liera’s boots slid down the length of EV’s sword, the grips on the bottom pushed by the jets strapped to her waist.  EV’s cockpit opened.  She caught the topmost door, twisted, and her back hit the cushions of her chair – knocking the breath from her lungs.  
                She wasted little time strapping herself in, welcoming the hug of EV’s braces.  
“Transferring controls to Pilot operation.”  
                Her visor flashed as the cockpit closed and the inner panels lit up.  
                The Mirelurk had one eye; green and disgusting as it sank into waterlogged flesh.  It stood on eight legs that danced in front of a fanned tail.  Spikes littered its body, the ones on its back the most massive.  A set of folded arms squirmed under the powerful claws that EV kept at bay.  
                Liera brought EV’s chassis in a roll, raising her arms and turning underneath them.  The blade scraped the inside of the shocked Mirelurk’s pincers as it spun, wrangling free.  EV swiped the sword to the side, extending it as she straightened herself out.  
“Let’s see what this thing’s made of.”  
                She flipped open a cover on her handles, pressing two red buttons simultaneously.  EV’s acolyte pods opened, unloading one cluster of missiles at a time.  
                The Queen knelt, it’s head retracting under its shell.  The rockets exploded on impact, inflicting what seemed like nothing but flesh wounds.  
                EV charged, using the Mirelurk’s back as a launch pad.  Her VTOL jets sent her airborne, and she twirled around to keep the beast in their sights.  
                When the jets aimed at the sky, EV pulled her Broadsword’s hilt behind her head, and came down like a javelin.  
                A billow of dust rippled away from the impact, revealing a bodiless landing zone.  
“Missed.”  
                Liera looked to the right, and the Mirelurk scuttered back to its feet.  
“You’re pretty good…”  
                EV jerked her sword from the ground, swiping the air and sending an Arc Wall at their foe.  It hit the Queen along the length of her body, pinning her against a wall that shook in protest and threatened to crumble.  
“Can’t get too close.” Liera tapped away on holographic screens, pinning a loading bar floating off to the side, “Those claws have enough crushing power to tear off a limb.”  
“Heavy ordinance and weapons fire deal minimal damage to the Mirelurk Queen.  Previous Solution: Activate Sword Core to initialize Close Quarters Combat.  Conflicting Orders: Maintain safe distance.  Please rectify.”  
                The Mirelurk heaved, standing tall and glaring.  
                It howled.  The earth quivered in terror, each cockpit panel blazing with sporadic lines of sound.  
**“This is Danse,”** He sounded out of breath, **“I’m back in my Power Armor!”  
**                 EV turned, the visual of a dashing suit taking up her left display.  
“Don’t know why you left it in the first place…” Liera huffed.  
**“Not now!”** He jumped, landing in front of the group still forming a barrier in front of Artyom, **“The smaller ones – they’re coming back!”**  
                A flood of Mirelurks bridged the distance between each collapsed section of the Castle.  Seaweed dragged behind them; barnacles crusted over their shells.  
“ _This_ is our contingency plan…” Liera pressed a button, “Divert all power from non-essential functions to combat systems.”  
“Pilot, that includes the medical unit and cockpit regulations.”  
“If we don’t make it out of this, there won’t be a cockpit _to_ regulate!”  
“…Acknowledged.”  
                A cursor ran across her HUD.

  
  
“Temperature control…OFFLINE.

Pressure control………….OFFLINE.

Air filter………………………OFFLINE.

Medical unit……………….OFFLINE.”

 

                A cool spray of mist coated the cockpit.  Electronic hums winded down, the lights on the right side of her going dark.  Her helmet flashed, it’s air filter clicking on.  
                Liera pressed her tech glove against a scanner. **  
** “Here comes the Maelstrom…”

…

 

                They came as a swarm from the sea – the result of a feigned retreat by an army of hundreds.  
“They’re so organized…” Danse whispered, “How can they communicate like that?”  
“The Mirelurk Queen must play a vital role in their reproductive cycle,” Curie explained, “If I am correct, they will stop at _nothing_ to defend her…”  
“They will not get to Artyom!” Alexsandr shouted, his sword igniting, “ZA RODINU!”  
                He bashed a Mirelurk that strayed from the others with his shoulder, stabbing it afterwards.  
“U…ura…” Artyom mumbled, choking on a laugh.  
“Please, try not to speak.” Curie begged.  
“Garvey,” Cait shouted, “This ain’t worth dyin’ for!”  
“This Castle is how we take back the Commonwealth – one small victory at a time…” Preston drew his sword, standing next to Danse, “Lexington.  The Metro…Time to prove yourself a Minuteman, Cait.”  
“By getting carved up into little pieces?!”  
“Hey…”  
                Preston turned to her, a smirk on his face.  
“At least it’s not raining.”  
“Ugh…” Cait moaned, “C’mon, Preston…”  
                Somewhere behind the ashen veil cast from the fire, a vent exhausted.  A cloud moved with an invisible force, like a tempest pushed it from the sky itself.  The distinct types of smoke rolled into each other, swirling across the courtyard and enveloping the marching Mirelurks.  
                The velocity was familiar…He’d seen it at the police station, when EV and Liera first made their appearance and electrocuted a Deathclaw.  
                EV’s Broadsword moved with a curving trajectory over the cloud, making landfall only a few yards in front of them; the smoke twirling away as it was split.  
“Get back!” Danse hollered, pulling on Alexsandr as he turned to run.  
                He looked over his shoulder.  Preston held on to his hat, following them.  Cait covered her ears.  
                A snapping sound came from the sword, electricity shooting off its blade; blue and furious.  
                It bled into the smoke like lightning summoned from the heavens.  Each bolt connected with a scuttling Mirelurk; an air strike called down by the devout rod that sought to punish the blasphemous crusaders.  
                A shadow fell upon them – titanic, stirring, marked by a single light beckoning like a lighthouse in the storm.  
                The Queen was the first to break through the smoke screen, its back aimed at the graveyard below.  EV came second, shielded from the lightning strikes by an orange light that gave her a consecrated glow.  
                A wave of dirt rose as the shell touched down, carving a rigid duct that led towards the party.  Each of the Mirelurk’s spikes shot through the courtyard like bloody missiles as they were severed from their host.  
                A blue wall appeared before Danse and the others, much like the one EV frequently used as a shield…  
                And after she and the Queen slid along the bodies of the dead Mirelurks, each corpse popping under the weight of them…they hit the particle shield, sending a ripple to the top.

 

…

 

                Tackling the beast fell out of line with the rules of engagement and went against Liera’s previous conclusion to stay at range…but there weren’t any parameters in place for dealing with a Mirelurk Queen.  
                It was going to be a long, dangerous fight.  
                One she’d like to win.  
                EV struggled to maintain a grip on the oversized Mirelurk, its feet scraping along her stomach’s armor as it raged underneath them.  
“Laser Core: Ready.” EV announced.  
                Liera pushed forward on the control sticks, bracing for impact.  
“GET HER!”  
                Three lasers framed the glaring eye – a portal into an abyss that stared back with fury.  Green slime pooled at the guarded mouth that bent like the Mirelurk was smiling at them.  
“EV, watch out!”  
                EV leaned to the left, the acidic bomb sending a sensor into a tizzy as it burnt past her head.  The shift in weight was enough to earn the Queen an opportunity.  
“Ahh- SHIT!”  
                Liera’s teeth chattered as her head hit the back of the cockpit’s chair, EV’s red beams fading before they connected.  Tiny, black holes wrinkled the ocular panels as drips of acid singed the outside doors.  
                Jagged mandibles slipped along the screen as the Mirelurk bit down on EV’s hub, and sparks flew from the cockpit’s internal seams.  An alert chirped, one rising chime after another.  
“EV, KILL IT WITH FIRE!”  
“Warning: Cockpit cooling deactivated as per-“  
“DO IT ANYWAY!”  
                The heat inside rose.  Liera began to sweat.  
“Visual shutdown imminent.  Temperature levels: Critical.”   A thermometer blinked through scrambled  images.  
                EV’s hand was nothing more than a reddened heap of metal as it passed between Liera’s field of view and the monster on top of them.  Steam left her fingertips, secured over the Mirelurks’ face.  
“WARNING: Visual sensors overheating-“  
                A red glow invaded the cockpit.  
“Flamethrower: Activated.”  
                Flames burst through the gaps in EV’s fingers, and the screens went black.  
_“’An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind…’”_

 

…

 

                 Danse shielded his eyes as a stream of fire shot from EV’s palm, pulling a screech from the Mirelurk Queen that hit him like a flashbang tossed without regard.  It peaked until it was at such a high frequency, he couldn’t hear it anymore.  The effects chiseled at his brain, leaving him disoriented and searching for his sanity through the panic.  
                The world teetered between the Titan leaning up, and the giant Mirelurk stumbling back.  EV’s ocular hub flickered as it came to life, her lens narrowing immediately.  The Mirelurk dug it’s claws in the earth, propelling it forward.  
                The particle shield disappeared as EV’s hand reached through, reclaiming her righteous sword.  
                EV aimed it forward, stabbing through the Mirelurk’s side.  It slid along her blade, it’s shell bursting behind it’s head.  EV shoulder charged it off, flinging blood to the ground with a shake of her hilt.  
                It was if time itself halted to bear witness to fate being weighed by two gods waging a holy war.  
                And still, the Queen of the Castle resisted.

 

…

  
  
                Its pincers rose, driving at the cockpit.  EV turned her sharpened edge towards them, catching the upper length of the blade with her other hand.  The claws clamped down, just missing her fingers.  
                Power failure warnings flashed. Liera was jostled as EV’s feet slid, her thrusters kicking on.  EV took a lunging step forward, shoving the Mirelurk off as the rockets on her back strengthened her knee, connecting with the monster’s gut.  
                It was stunned, ready to be slain.  
                EV’s sword split the shell just above its eye.  She tugged, and an alert flashed on their HUD.  
“Pilot,” She pulled again, “My Broadsword is stuck.  Recommended course of action?”  
“What do you mean, _stuck?!_ ”  
                The Mirelurk bucked, whining in pain.  
“EV, turn your Arc stream off…” Liera unstrapped herself, “This has gone on long enough.”  
                She loaded her Wingman, and crouched in front of her chair.  The doors opened, and EV was yanked to the side by a powerful thrust.  
“Shit-“ Liera stumbled outside, her jump kit stabilizing as her feet found purchase on the side of EV’s weapon.  
                She wallran along the steel until she met its end, her knees hitting her chest as she jumped higher.   She tactically fell parallel to the crustaceous shell, slamming her hammer like a climbing axe. It’s metal mass of a head sank in a puddle of sprouting green ooze, splintering the crumbling exterior that bounced off her helmet in bits.  
                She looked down, her feet dangling for what seemed like miles above solid ground.  
                She refocused on the sword tip lodged overhead, wrapping both hands around the handle of the stuck Super Sledge.  
                Liera pulled herself up, her feet pressed against the back of the Mirelurk.  Her Grapple shot high, locking its hook near the Queen’s head.  She gripped the hammer and cranked it like a lever, her boots sliding as her strength broke the it free from its bleeding prison.  
                The tether retracted inch by inch as she rappelled up the shell, using the broken spike stumps as footholds.  Her heel buried itself in a particularly deep crater, and she bit the tip of her tech glove.  She tucked it away, eyeing up her exposed cybernetic hand.  
“Get ready!” She cradled the bottom of EV’s sword with her palm.  
                She pushed as hard as her replacement parts would allow.  The sword budged, and she almost fell.  
“PULL, EV!”  
                Liera put more force behind it, and it rose another inch.  Her shoulder collided with the blade, nearly causing a new cleave.  
“Fuck-“  
                The pain wasn’t dodged so easily.  
“KEEP PULLING!”  
“Pilot, I-“  
“KEEP.  PULLING.”  
                She panted, the hammer weighing her human arm down.  It’s handle switched hands.  She fired the rocket…and swung.  
                The sword went barreling out of the crevice it made.  EV lost her balance, catching a castle wall for support.  
                Liera landed her on side as she rolled towards the edge of the Mirelurk’s shell.  She broke into freefall, and the Grapple’s cord locked.  
“Ugh…”  
                Yellowed slime drained down the wrinkles of the Mirelurk’s head.  Wet tendrils reached out for her, set in reddened flesh that housed a single, piercing eye.  She felt as though she could hear the creature’s thoughts: “I want to kill you.”  
                It was true that she faced a different kind of danger than she did on Demeter, even after taking the same risk she had to protect the rest of the pack.  She was dangling from something other than her harness, but she was vulnerable all the same.  A safety belt didn’t choke her, now, but fear _did_.   
                A blue, backlit, four-pronged reflection showed back at her in the Mirelurk’s glossy portal to the underworld.  A Pilot’s visor that was set in a green helmet, stamped with an SRS Prowler, a Militia skull, and had “M-COR” sprawled in an orange stripe.  
                Her legs scrambled as she reached for her Wingman.  
“Not today.”  
                The Mirelurk Queen’s pupil shrank, a pin-point homing system locked on destroying her.  
                It disappeared behind her pistol’s iron sights.  
                Her life hung in the balance, and Ryan wasn’t there to save her like the last time she’d stared Death in the face.  
                But _this_ time…  
                Death blinked first.

 

…

 

                She’d shot it.  She’d dangled in front of a Mirelurk Queen, and instead of heading for safety…  
                She _shot_ it.  
                It wasn’t in vein.  It had done some damage, leaving the beast blindly fumbling around in place.  
                But Liera had been struck by one of the Mirelurk’s boxing arms; those that, throughout the battle, had been scuttling and reaching under threatening claws – never connecting.  
                Not until it mattered.  
                Danse watched her hurl across the courtyard, followed by EV’s failed attempt to catch her.  He cringed as she collided with a nearby wall, taking cover when pieces of her jump kit flew like shrapnel.  She peeled out of the rocky imprint, bricks falling in pieces on either side.  
                He moved automatically.  
“Danse, DON’T-“ Preston jumped in front of him, “You go out there? You’re DEAD!”  
                He went to step around him, but Preston blocked his path.  
“Do you _hear_ me in there?! DEAD!”  
                Danse took two fistfuls of Preston’s coat, his Power Armor grinding as he lifted him to eye level.  
“Either get out of my way…” His voice was low and taut with anger, “…Or come _with_ me.”  
                A flash of terror ran across the General’s face.  
“Not…Not this time, Danse…”  
                Just like in Lexington, EV was distracted.  She took a blow to the face, focused on her Pilot that might or might _not_ be alive.  
“Put me down,” Preston closed his hands around Danse’s metal fingers, “I’ve got to get my people, and the Spetsnaz, out of here…”  
                He dropped to the ground as Danse released him without lowering his grip.  
“Good luck out there, Paladin.”  
                Preston stood in front of the others.  Cait, who’d shown the closest expression to remorse he’d seen since they met.  Alexsandr, crouched next to a saddened Curie and his injured brother.  Artyom, was only stabilized thanks to Liera’s Pilot’s Stim – the dose she no longer had.  
                The faces of those who’d allowed a soldier from a different planet to fight on their behalf, and made the decision to leave let her die.  
“Luck…”  
                Ingram had said something similar to him.  Like then, Danse loaded his rifle.  
“I’ve got all the luck I need right here.”

 

…

 

                A white line parted her eyelids, coming in shudders of blurry images.  
                The overcast sky set on her as a sheet would a corpse.  The taste of death coated her tongue, swirling in her blood like poison in wine.  Each desperate breath was a defibrillation; the crackles of ozone being set like breach charges on the afterlife’s gates.  The ground shook as if it were dividing, making way for the rising hellfire in wake of the detonation.  
                Sounds faded to silence as two giants struggled.  Leaks from acidic wounds drew the line where their worlds collided - a swaying pendulum of bloodthirst between hardened pincers and metal fists.  
                The war for survival waged on, and EV was losing.  She found Liera in a glance of her blue hub; a spark leaving her chassis as the curved shell of a claw punched her armor.  
                As Liera’s head turned, Artyom hollered in pain.  Curie and Cait were dragging him inside, their hands stained by the spurting wound on his stomach.  Alexsandr helped them, lifting his legs.  
_“They’re…falling…back…”_  
                Reddened sweat dripped from her lashes as her visor pointed at the clouds.  They were torn asunder and rebuilt; reduced to pixels by the “SYSTEM FAILURE” warnings and glitched data bouncing around her broken HUD.  
                It would’ve been easy, then, to slip away into the dying light.  To walk among the same ghosts that retold their stories through nightmares when darkness fell.  
                But the sun was as high as the stakes should they fail.  
                Nightfall hadn’t come yet.  
                The cover on her wrist computer was resistant.  Dirt grinded to dust in the tracks, the metal shavings sweeping the screen.  Her elbow stabbed the ground as her prosthetic held it over her eyes.  A cone of light shot from a lens, sweeping her face.

 

Cybernetic Implants Verified  
Neural Mesh: Activated  
BCI Link: ONLINE  
Initializing LAST_STAND_PROTOCOL  
WARNING-

 

                She rolled on her side, sifting through the cradle of her jump kit’s parts and splintered metal.  Redirected blood chased her fingers as they clawed the freshly-watered soil into jagged irrigation trenches.  
                Her hand slipped under her chest, and her knee below her stomach.  Her limbs shook as she pushed herself up.  Rubble and debris sprinkled down like a dusty curtain let loose from her flanks.  
“I’m here-“  
                Danse slid to a halt, wrapping his arm around her waist for support.  
                She hung from him, heaving and sore.  Her chin parted from her chest, leveling the toggling bubble of her shattered vision with the battlefield.  EV dodged each poking claw from the Mirelurk monster.  
                Crunching metal burst in her ears, coming like a sonic boom.  A piece of Titan left a smoking trail, skittering and rolling out of view.  
“We have to move!”  Preston threw her other arm around his shoulder.  
“What, have a change of heart?” Danse snorted.  
“What does it look like?!”  
                They tried to get her to walk…  
                But her cybernetics locked in place.  
                A static pop sent her forehead crashing into Danse’s chest plate.  There was a ringing in her ear that made her dizzy; a shift in her hearing, and a warm trickle down her neck.  
“Liera, you’re-“  
                She exhaled through her nose, her hand closing over the blown comms device on the right side of her helmet.  She brought it down in front of her.  
                A spotty scan broke it apart.  Each piece of wire and blown circuitry relayed corrupted data, lumped into one diagnosis:  
                “OVERLOADED.”  
                A small pinch came from the back of her brain until it blossomed into a splitting pain, running from the farthest end of her implants to the other.  Her eyes clamped shut, leaving the world as she knew it behind.  
_“So it begins.”  
_                 Hundreds had died so that she could be blessed with the cursed technology that tore the seams of where iron meets flesh.  A gunless trigger without a bullet, dangerous by design.  A last stand against the legion of dead who cried for vengeance of their stolen valor.  
                She’d take it _all._   They would not add more to their ranks. _  
_                 She’d break winter’s grasp by stepping through the gates of Hell.  She’d empower herself with the mistakes of the past to defend the present and safeguard the future, even if that meant summoning her demons to serve as angels.  
_“’By **fire** and **sword** …’”_  
                That’s what it meant to be a Vanguard of humanity.  
_“…We’ll **slash** and **burn**.”_  
                The Commonwealth was due for a reckoning…  
                Hand-delivered by an army of one.  
**“The sword is ours, Pilot.”**

 

…

 

                Liera’s fingers hooked on the rim of her helmet, and the whining hiss of the seal around her neck leaked through the others’ shouting.  
“The Titan is down!  What is she _doing?!”_ Preston took a step back as the Mirelurk Queen stalked them.  
                She lifted her helmet from her shoulders, letting it fall where it may.  It rocked in place, it’s visor reduced to dancing hexagons.  
                The implants on her head were a signature purple color – giving off the same neon glow from when she was plugged into EV.  
_“Right before she aimed her gun at Rhys…“  
                _ Danse took to a knee, lifting the broken helmet in his palms.  He looked back at her – a single woman standing in the shadow of a beast that raised on its legs.  
                A chamber emptied, and a cannister rolled between the feet of the Mirelurk.  A sour, sweet smell penetrated the air as green gas spewed from its core.  
                Liera’s hand wrapped around the handle of her Wingman.  The holster clicked, and the strap unlocked.  She held her ground.  Took aim.  Pulled the trigger.  
                The earth was engulfed in a pool of fire, creating a scorching rift between them and the hulking creature.  The roars and screeching were less menacing than the Titan rising from the ashes behind the Mirelurk Queen.  
                EV’s purple hub shimmered in the heat distortion that anchored rising plumes of smoke.  Her sword jabbed at the ground, her fist closed around its handle.   
                Liera crouched, her focus never shifting from the enemy that threatened her.  She took to a knee, reaching for her Super Sledge and pummeling the dirt with its blunt head.  
                She used it as a crutch, pushing herself to her feet.  EV mimicked the motion…  
                And in perfect synchronization, they rose their weapons high, took a combative stance, and circled their prey like a pair of wolves.  
                They reacted and responded to each other’s movements, no longer two entities that operated independently.  
                The mystery of the “classified” implants was coming to a close.  
Liera’s shoulder rolled.  She brought the hammer down, and EV’s sword clanked against the Mirelurk’s shell.  
                It stumbled forward, a shrill cry escaping the jaws around its mouth as it got too close to the heat.  Liera pulled her arm back, the sledgehammer running parallel to the ground as the Mirelurk lurched forward.  
                Fire licked EV’s sword as it swept over the flames, orange light glistening from tip to hilt.  The force that followed her swing nearly snuffed them out, bringing them to full tilt like a strong breath to a candle.  
                The Mirelurk Queen jumped to the side, flanking EV from the right.  Liera’s chin turned, and EV’s hub rotated accordingly – her lens narrowed and glaring.  It opened its claw, aiming for her arm.  
                Liera side-stepped in sync with EV’s dashing jet mechanism.  
                She lowered her hammer, hovering the end of its shaft just above her knees.  They had a slight crouch to them, her ankles trading spots as she paced.  
                She jumped left; EV moving to the right, placing the Mirelurk between them.  Liera took a step forward, her dogtags swinging on her chest below the hammer that jutted forward.  
                The Mirelurk ducked, hiding in its shell.  The sharp edge of EV’s sword screeched, glinting off the hard surface.  The beast popped up, dislodging EV’s grasp and sending the sword spinning.  
                The blade impaled the ground, just on the other side of the flames.  The Mirelurk had separated her from her weapon.  
                Liera tossed her hammer aside, raising her fists and lowering her stance.  Her neck cranked to the right, and EV dodged a claw’s blow.  Her left arm came around, connecting with the Mirelurk and knocking it off balance.  
                Liera and EV were locked in a sequence of Close Quarters Combat, blocking attacks with well-placed forearms, rolling wrists, and palm-to-hand punches.  
                The fury that reigned from the Mirelurk Queen was something that an animal shouldn’t possess.     
                Danse didn’t question the laws of nature too often.  The Brotherhood’s purpose was to preserve them, after all.  But this…This was like nature _wanted_ to exterminate them.  
                Like the Commonwealth had shared its secrets with an enemy that not even a Pilot and Titan could take down without getting hurt.  
                Their legs switched as they pulled back.  They leaned forward, a claw sweeping above EV’s battery well.  They jumped backwards, moving their arms away from the clamping pincers.  
                They fought defensively, hardly attacking, as if waiting for the perfect moment to strike…  
                And it seemed they’d found one.  
                One fist collided with the shell covering the Mirelurk’s head, knocking it to the left.  The other swept up, punching it to the right.  The Mirelurk’s snapped at EV’s wrist, and Liera ducked, side-stepping in its shadow.  
                EV’s right hand shot out, and secured itself on the joint behind a claw.  Liera’s left elbow jabbed the air, and EV’s impaled the Mirelurk’s eye in a swift motion.  The other pincer came from the left, and EV caught that one too.  
                Liera lifted her knee, her arms supported by seemingly nothing.  EV’s leg slipped between her chassis and the Mirelurk.  The boot still planted on the ground turned, Liera’s hips twisting in unison while her knee remained folded and suspended.  It sprang like a trap, and EV’s foot landed square in the Mirelurk’s stomach.  
                There were two crunches.  Two springs of blood that painted the silver Titan a sickly green.  
                The pincers had been severed.  
                Liera panted, EV’s hulking shoulders rising and falling as she held each claw in her hands.  She tossed them aside as if they were toys.  
                Danse hadn’t given the idea of a higher power much thought before witnessing the battle that took place after storming the castle, because even if “nature” _wanted_ to maintain its hold on the fortress…  
                Divine intervention had placed its hand on the shoulders of a Titan.  One that fought in coordination with the Pilot who bore the responsibility break the IMC’s chains on the Frontier.  
                Today, it didn’t matter who the enemy was…Or who sat at the ends of those chains and rattled them until the universe fell apart.  
                Whatever God or Gods had sent these protectors of Earth to the Commonwealth…  
                They were honored in this fight; hallmarked by bravery and determination against all odds.  
                Liera and EV took a step back, their elbows almost touching as they wound them backwards, just before shooting forward.  
                EV’s fingers latched on the edge of the Mirelurk’s shell.  It struggled and shook, defenseless to the Titan’s onslaught.  Liera’s knees bent and shook as if holding the weight of Earth in her palms. EV struggled to lift the creature, but its feet soon left the ground.  
                Jets flared from underneath EV’s arms before she slammed it down, it’s shell meeting the inferno they’d laid before.  
                Liera’s silhouette was framed by the fire, smoke, and ash that cooked the giant trapped on its back.  EV’s form twisted and danced in the heat, rising to stand tall with her Pilot – her shoulders bouncing from Liera’s heavy breaths.  
                Liera’s chin yanked to the side as she spit, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.  She angrily walked to her hammer, picking it up as EV pulled her sword free from the ground.  
                Liera’s foot raised before it stamped the dirt.  EV’s planted on the Mirelurk’s face, holding it in place and muting the beast’s screams.   
                Liera twisted her hammer, the sword’s blade spinning before EV caught it.  It whistled with an electric charge, the static clinging to Danse’s arms and raising the hairs on his skin.  
                And then they brought it down.  
                A plume of dirt puffed under the super sledge’s head.   
                EV cut a new hole in the Mirelurk that screamed no more.  Blood spurt from the contact wound as would a fountain, leaving streaks of death along the sword that sparkled brighter than the water surrounding the Castle. The Queen’s legs extended fully before curling up, locked at an angle reminiscent of a dead spider.  
                EV’s purple light showed through the flames, her narrowed lens rising in a menacing stare as her focus left the demon that’d been slain.  
                Liera’s brows were pinched in a permanent crease, her nose crinkled in an anger that was only second to be feared by the ghostly lights leaving her eyes.  They were contrasted by black smudges across her face – the remnants of heat that’d touched her skin but hadn’t been enough to burn her.  A red trail soaked the right side of her face, and stained the scarf below her chin.  
                Liera and EV’s fists unfurled.  Their knees began to straighten.  
                Their gazes shifted to each other, their right hands rising.  
                And they gave each other a thumbs up.

 

…

 

                Danse walked her to the base of the radio tower, the fire sizzling to smoke and embers from the trickle leaving the Mirelurk.  Liera’s helmet dangled in his other hand, damaged and sparking.  
                Her legs stung.  Every muscle in her body begged for rest.  Her wounds refused to cease their throbbing.  Blood stained the table as she braced it for support.  
“Easy…”  
                He lowered her on an aged chair, and she was thankful it held her weight.  Danse removed his helmet, placing it on the desk behind her.  
“Shit…” She mumbled.  
                Alexsandr briskly walked across the carnage, breaking out in a light jog.  He held out his hand, his grime-covered fingers unfurling.  
“I thought you may want this back.”  
                Danse retrieved the half-used Pilot Stim pack, and looked back to Liera.  
“Artyom was…dying.” He grit his teeth, “Curie used your medicine.  Whatever is in there, it saved his life.  Spetsnaz owe you great debt.  The Brotherhood will have full support.”  
“Is he okay, now?” She asked.  
“Curie is with him, monitoring vitals.  He is stable.” He nodded, “He is alive.  He will live.”  
“I’m glad.”  
“Now _you_ must live.”  
                Liera smirked, “Stupid crab’s not taking me out…”  
                She turned to Danse, “Would you mind asking EV for a refill? Half a dose and a set of dirty needles ain’t gonna do it…”  
“Liera, you’re bleeding all over the place,” He hid his panic well, “You need medical attention-“  
“Danse, this system of mine wouldn’t be much of a secret weapon if it kicked my ass every time I used it, now, would it?”  
“That’s _not_ what I’m talking about!” He shouted, “You. Are. _Wounded_.”  
“Come, tin man.  I will go with you.  Perhaps not yell with bleeding ear.” He nodded to Liera.  
                She frowned, and closed her eyes.  
                The pain was stabbing.  
“I…” Danse sighed, “Yeah.”  
                She peaked through one eye, watching them walk away.  
“EV, link the radio tower to the Revere Satellite Array.”  
“Pilot, there is no power being conducted to the radio tower.”  
“Ugh…” Liera buckled, grabbing her head, “Patch me through remotely, then.  Find the frequency with the highest traffic...I have a message to send to the rest of the Commonwealth.”        
“Network attack commencing…Overriding Diamond City Radio.  We need to make sure Preston knows what’ll happen if he aims those mortars at the _Prydwen…”_  
                She surveyed the Castle.  
                The fortified walls with old Minutemen flags fluttering on their posts.  The mortars aimed outwards at each point – all now belonging to a faction led by one, clever man…  
                General Garvey, the man that needed to be reminded that _he_ wasn’t the only one that knew how to play the game of politics.  
“ _…_ Complete chaos.”  
“Secure line established.” EV responded, “Ready to broadcast.”  
“Alright,” Liera held her wrist computer to her lips, “Commence transmission.”  
                She smirked at Danse’s perturbed expression, watching him as EV refilled the needles’ vials.  She imagined Alexsandr and Artyom would have questions about the revealed cockpit…among other things.  
                A red, blinking dot came on her screen.  
“Citizens, of the Commonwealth!” She shouted.  
                Preston froze in place.  The rest of them slowly turned to her, and Danse began his return with haste.  
“My name is Liera Lastimosa.  I come to you today to report a great victory…but not one like you’d think.  See, when two sides decide to go to war…” A cramped stomach forced her to pause, “Another is usually destroyed in the process.  Not today.”  
                Preston marched up to Danse, pulling his shoulder and forcing him to turn.  He pointed at Liera, whispering angrily, “ _What_ is going on?!”  
“I don’t know-“  
“The Minutemen and the Brotherhood of Steel have successfully retaken the Castle in a joint operation.” Liera proceeded, “Together, we were able to contain and destroy the Mirelurk threat, rightfully restoring possession of this fortress to the Minutemen.  May this serve as a reminder to all of us, that only by becoming one, will we survive the trials and tribulations forced onto us by the IM…the Institute.”  
                She slid her computer closed and leaned back in the chair.  
“Really fucked up that last part…Close one.”  
“Are you out of your _mind_?” Preston yelled, “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do!”  
“What makes you think you can talk to a Brotherhood soldier like that?!”  
                Her jaw tightened as she snatched the full Pilot Stim pack from Danse, jabbing a fresh needle through her jumpsuit and into her thigh.  Her thumb pressed on the lever, going past the first line.  
“Pilot.”  
                She pushed harder.  Halfway.  
“…Pilot.”  
                The liquid drained from the tank.  Her teeth locked, and her arm shook as the sweat on her palm threatened to slip her hand.  
“Warning-“  
“SHHH.”  
                The injector hit the base of the needle, and she released a held breath.  She panted and gasped, throwing her head back.  Her hand smacked against her face, the searing pain of a wound repairing itself hurt almost as bad as the gash itself.  The vacuum sound of mending flesh in her ear banged against her brain.  
                She convulsed briefly, and Danse held her by her shoulders, “What did you do-“  
                She sucked in air, the heels of her boots sliding across the slick cement.  
“I’m…fine-“ She grabbed his wrists, focusing on his eyes.  
“Stay with me.” He begged, “Stay with me, Liera.”  
                She returned quick nods before letting the pain out in a ramping breath. Just the sight of him made everything better.  But she soon switched to the man standing behind them, watching with an angry pout and a pair of crossed arms.  
“Those…mortars.” Her words came as heaves, “You wanted to checkmate…the Brotherhood.”  
                His face crinkled, “The Commonwealth belongs to all of us, Lastimosa.  I thought you’d of all people would understand that…”  
“I do.  I also understand you’ve got…a Synth parading around like a combat medic.”           
“She’s a _what?!_ ” Danse swore under his breath.  
“She’s a CVRIE, short for ‘Contagions Vulnerability Robotic Infirmary Engineer.’  A Miss Nanny robot that escaped with Cait from Vault 81 after she saved it from a secret lab hidden on the other side of the walls.”  
                Preston paced, similar to how Maxson did during his speech.  It was unsettling.  
“I’ll admit, when Cait came to me with the idea of transferring Curie’s…everything…to a human brain, I didn’t buy it.  Then she introduced me to Dr. Amari.”  
                Liera’s eyes narrowed.  
_“Dr. Amari…The woman Nick talked about.  We’re meeting her tonight-“  
_                 Preston held his hands out, “Amari convinced me otherwise.  Said that, ‘A Pre-War robot with her knowledge and skills, plus human cognition, could save many lives.’  There was only one issue.”  
“Transferring memories and personalities from a robot to a human is a _ridiculous_ notion?” Danse sneered.  
“No.  Amari translates memories from the sender to computers and back all the time.  That’s how the Memory Den Loungers work.” He stopped, turning to them, “The problem we faced revolved around the simple fact that human minds can’t decode robotic programming.  You know what can? A Synth.”  
“So what…She just had an extra Synth body lying around?” Liera snorted.  
“Not exactly.  It took some string-pulling…Certain procedures that Synths undergo at the Memory Den aren’t always successful.  If something goes wrong, it can leave them in a brain-dead state.  Living, but with _no_ cognition.  Because of an accident…we had our corpse.”  
“Certain procedures?” Danse’s brow furrowed.  
“I’m not at liberty to say.”  
“I hope this story is going somewhere, Garvey.” Liera caught her breath.  
“I’m getting to the best part.” He crouched, taking to a knee and giving her a sinister grin, “ _This_ Synth corpse was special.  It was proof that the Institute created an interpreter for raw data – just like the data Curie needed to find a host for.”  
                She hated herself for letting him make her feel nervous.  
“…And what would that be?”  
“This Synth, like many others we’ve discovered, had cybernetic enhancements that interfaced directly with their brains.”  
                Liera stood, the Stim pulsing through her veins.  He did too, and she faced him directly.  
“I don’t like what you’re implying.”  
“I’m not ‘implying,’ anything.”  
“And _I’m_ not a Synth.”  
“Hey, maybe you didn’t know.  Maybe they have a different word for them where you’re from.”  
“You wanna know what I am?  Where I’m from?” She beat her fist on her chest, pounding her name patch, “I’m a Combat Intel Specialist for the Militia, serving the goddamn _Frontier._ ”  
“You have no idea who you’re working for, _Knight._ ” Preston got in her face, his eyes filled with distrust.  
“I know _exactly,_ who I’m working for.” She met his with equal ferocity, her nose brushing against his, “And they sent me here to bring order to this wasteland. YOU, are _not_ gonna stop me, and neither is _anyone_ else…So I suggest we all learn how to ‘play nice…’”  
                Liera pressed a finger to his chest, creating space between them by pushing him back.  
“Because I’m not going _anywhere_ until I know we’re ready to take on the IMC when they show up.”  
                She nodded at Danse, signaling she was ready to leave.  
                Danse picked up his helmet, handing Liera her’s.  
“Enjoy the Castle… _General_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Note:**  
>  I won't go on too long here. I just wanted to say DAMN, that was a long writing session; thank you to Matt and Ele who listened to me drone on about this chapter; and thank **you** for reading it. I hope it was worth the wait, and the cliffhanger... :P
> 
> This chapter is riddled with external references, but the one I'd like to point out is [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KrHufPEdYAY).
> 
> I listened to it probably over 50 times, and it's very special to me in regards to the 10+ hours it took to write this.
> 
> Oh, and "Become One," is actually Titanfall 2's main slogan. :D
> 
>  **Behind the Scenes:**  
>  Check out [Chapter 52](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10296845/chapters/34157804) of _"The Archive,"_ for more screenshots and commentary!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [In Perfect Harmony](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13638828) by [MjrGenMatt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MjrGenMatt/pseuds/MjrGenMatt), [Precursor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Precursor/pseuds/Precursor)




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